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rl^       ^       *^. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


iTfr.:: 


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^mf. 


This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO  WEEKS 
ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine  of  FIVE 
CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  was  taken  out  on 
the  day  indicated  below: 


.U.H 


LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT 


^  Moxvi  of  mc  Witcx 


I 


CAPTAIN   •       :      .x^'I.LEi",   United  States  Scout 

AU'f!!    ^v    Cr     "  GILI'aRT   THE    TRAPPER,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


NEW    YORK 

JOHN  W.  LOVELL   COMPANY 

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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2009  with  funding  from 

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LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

SUEROUNDED    BY   SHARPSHOOTERS. 

"  Chips,  how  long  have  you  been  in  the  service  ?" 
"  About  twenty  five  years,  man  and  boy." 
"  Well,  I  want  to  know  if  you  ever  before  saw  a 
naval  expedition  leave  the  water,  and  go  philander- 
ing off  through  the  woods,  as  we  are  doing  now." 

The  speaker  was  a  trim  young  gunboat  officer, 
dressed  in  the  uniform  of  an  acting  ensign.  The 
companion  whom  he  called  "  Chips  ''  was  an  elderly 
man,  who  wore  upon  the  lappel  of  his  coat  the  badge 
of  a  warrant  officer.  He  was  the  carpenter  of  the 
vessel  to  which  the  two  belonged.  It  was  the  sec- 
ond dog  watch — the  only  hours  on  shipboard  that 
are  devoted  to  fun  and  recreation.  Supper  was 
over,  the  boats  had  been  hoisted  at  the  davits,  the 
boarding  nettings  triced  up,  and  the  hundred  and 
seventy  men  composing  the  crew,  with  the  exception 
of  the  few  that  were  on  duty,  were  gathered  on  the 
gun  deck,  smoking  their  pipes  and  conversing  in  low 
and  guarded  tones. 

There  was  no  laughing  or  singing,  no  loud  noise 
of  any  sort.  The  banjo  and  violin  were  silent,  and 
for  three  days  the  boatswain's  mate  had  not  been 
called  upon  for  the  usual  hornpipe.  The  face  of 
every  one  on  board,  from  the  captain  down  to  the 


6  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

youngest  wardroom  boy,  wore  an  expression  of  anx- 
iety; and  when  I  come  to  tell  you  just  how  they 
were  situated  and  what  they  were  trying  to  do,  you 
will  not  wonder  at  it. 

The  crew  of  the  gunboat  Decatur  had  been  through 
many  a  hard  fought  battle  on  the  Mississippi  river 
and  its  tributary  streams,  but  they  had  never  been  in 
so  much  danger  as  they  were  at  that  moment.  They 
did  not  know  at  what  instant  the  springing  of  the 
rattle  might  call  them  to  quarters  to  fight  for  their 
lives,  and  to  defend  their  vessel  from  the  assault  of 
overwhelming  boarding  parties. 

"  I  wonder  if  any  boat  ever  went  through  here  be- 
fore," continued  the  young  ensign,  as  he  and  his 
companion  walked  up  and  down  the  main  deck,  with 
their  hands  behind  their  backs. 

*  "  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  carpenter.  "  The  streams 
that  rUn  through  these  swamps  are  all  navigable  for 
little  cotton  traders,  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
traffic  done  between  this  country  and  Vicksburg  be- 
fore the  war.  There  were  a  large  number  of  plant- 
ers through  here  then,  and  they  raised  big  crops  of 
cotton  and  corn." 

"  They  must  have  done  their  farm  work  with  boats 
instead  of  mules,"  said  the  ensign.  "  The  water  is 
three  feet  deep  all  over  the  lowlands." 

"  More  than  that  in  some  places,"  answered  Chips. 
"  The  Mississippi  is  so  high  that  McPherson's  corps, 
which  is  supposed  to  be  operating  with  Grant  against 
Vicksburg,  is  at  Lake  Providence,  seventy  miles 
away.  They  can't  find  dry  ground  to  camp  on  any 
nearer  than  that.  But  you  must  remember  that  this 
lias  been  an  uncommon  winter  for  high  water  and 
heavy  rains,  and  that  the  levees  that  were  built  to 
protect  the  country  from  overflow  have  not  been 
touched  since  the  war  began.  More  than  that,  they 
have  been  cut  in  several  places  to  let  the  water  of 


SUBEOUNDED  BY  SHABPSHOOTERS.  7 

the  river  into  the  bayous,  so  that  our  gunboats  could 
make  overland  expeditions." 

"  And  what  have  they  amounted  to  ?"  said  the  en- 
sign, in  a  tone  of  disgust.  "The  attempt  to  get  the 
boats  down  to  Red  River  by  way  of  Lake  Providence 
has  proved  a  failure ;  the  batteries  at  Haines*  Bluff 
were  altogether  too  strong  for  us;  the  Yazoo  Pass 
exj)edition  has  been  whipped  and  driven  back;  and 
now  the  Decatur  and  four  other  vessels  have  come 
up  here  into  Steel's  Bayou  to  leave  their  bones.  If 
we've  got  to  fight,  I  would  rather  face  the  batteries 
of  Vicksburg  than  three  or  four  regiments  of  sharp- 
shooters any  day  iu  the  week." 

"Here,  too,"  said  Chips.  "We  can  fight  a  bat- 
tery with  some  hope  of  success;  but  we  can  do  noth- 
ing with  men  who  skulk  behind  trees  and  logs,  and 
pop  at  every  fellow  who  shows  his  nose  at  a  port  hole. 
I  don't  like  the  idea  of  being  confined  below  from 
daylight  until  dark,  and  having  but  one  cooked  meal 
in  twenty  four  hours.  I  wish  the  enemy  would  quit 
their  bushwhacking  tactics,  bring  some  boats  over 
from  Vicksburg,  and  make  an  attempt  to  take  us  by 
boarding.  We  would  give  them  a  lesson  in  gunboat 
fighting  that  would  stay  by  them  for  one  while,  I  bet 
you." 

"  They  are  not  such  fools,"  replied  the  young  offi- 
cer. "  As  long  as  they  can  annoy  us  at  a  distance  with 
perfect  safety  to  themselves,  they  are  not  coming  to 
close  quarters  to  face  hot  water  and  shrapnel,  you 
may  depend  upon  that.'* 

Chips  was  not  the  only  one  on  board  the  Decatur 
who  wished  that  the  concealed  sharpshooters,  who 
had  been  constantly  harassing  them  for  the  last 
three  days,  would  show  themselves  in  force,  have  a 
fair  fight,  and  whip  or  get  whipped.  Although  it  was 
no  later  in  the  season  than  the  middle  of  March,  it 
was  uncomfortably  warm  below,  as  it  always  is  on 


8  LUKE  BENNETTS  HIDE  OUT. 

board  an  iron  clad  when  the  engineers  are  obliged  to 
keep  up  steam;  but  it  was  against  orders  for  any- 
body to  show  himself  on  deck  during  the  daj^time, 
and  dangerous  as  well. 

The  banks  of  the  bayou  and  all  the  surrounding 
country  were  under  water,  but  there  was  a  narrow 
strip  of  dry  ground  on  the  right  hand  bank,  which 
was  thickly  covered  with  briers,  bushes  and  cane,  and 
on  this  ridge  the  four  thousand  sharpshooters,  that 
had  been  sent  out  from  Vicksburg  to  harass  the  ex- 
pedition, found  secure  hiding  places.  Sometimes 
they  W' ould  send  their  bullets  against  the  Decatur's 
thick  armor  like  hailstones,  and  then  they  would  be- 
come so  quiet  that  the  crew  told  one  another  that 
they  had  grown  tired  of  wasting  their  ammunition  and 
gone  back  to  the  city;  but  if  some  imprudent  and 
foolhardy  fellow  put  his  head  out  of  a  port  to  take 
observations,  ho  was  sure  to  become  a  target  for  a 
dozen  or  more  concealed  marksmen,  some  of  whom 
proved  to  be  dead  shots.  After  three  men  had  been 
killed  outright,  and  as  many  more  desperately 
wounded,  the  Decatur's  crew  concluded  to  obey  or- 
ders and  keep  under  cover.  There  were  four  other 
gunboats  in  the  expedition,  and  they  were  all  an- 
noyed in  the  same  way. 

These  incidents,  and  others  which  I  shall  try  to 
describe  in  this  story,  happened  in  the  spring  of 
18G3,  and  the  place  where  they  occurred  w\'is  within 
fifty  miles  of  Vicksburg,  which  at  that  time  was  so 
strongly  fortified  that  it  was  called  the  "  Gibraltar  of 
America."  If  you  have  paid  close  attention  to  your 
history,  you  will  remember  that  General  Sherman 
and  Admiral  Porter  made  a  combined  assault  upon 
Vicksburg  during  the  fall  and  winter  of  the  previous 
year,  but  their  efforts  were  not  successful.  The  low- 
lands were  so  deeply  covered  with  water  that  General 
Sherman  could  not  use  more  than  five  of  the  twenty 


SURROUNDED  BY  SHARPSHOOTERS.  9 

thousand  men  that  composed  his  army,  and  the  forti- 
fications at  Haines'  Bluff,  which  was  situated  on  the 
Yazoo  River,  eleven  miles  from  Vicksbui-g,  were  too 
strong  for  the  gunboats.  More  than  that,  the  river 
was  filled  with  torpedoes,  one  of  which  sent  the  finest 
boat  in  the  fleet,  the  Mound  City,  to  the  bottom  in 
seven  minutes. 

After  this  failure  General  Grant  took  command  in 
person,  and  then  began  a  series  of  operations  and 
maneuvers  whose  magnitude  astonished  the  loyal 
but  impatient  people  of  the  North,  who  were  waiting 
anxiously  for  something  to  be  done. 

Among  tliese  operations  were  the  "  overland  ex- 
peditions "  that  were  undertaken  by  the  gunboats 
and  transports.  The  first,  which  left  the  river  at 
Yazoo  Pass,  was  composed  of  two  heavy  gunboats, 
one  wooden  ram,  and  transports  enough  to  carry  five 
thousand  soldiers.  The  water  course  they  followed 
was  so  narrow  and  tortuous,  and  so  completely 
blocked  with  fallen  timber,  that  it  took  them  four 
days  to  go  eighteen  miles.  They  found  water  every- 
where, and  on  a  little  island  at  the  junction  of  the 
Tallahatchee  and  Yallabusha  Rivers,  a  little  fort 
mounting  eleven  guns,  which  successfully  resisted 
their  further  progress. 

,  The  commanding  general,  who  had  many  things  to 
think  of  during  those  troublous  times,  was  much 
concerned  for  the  safety  of  this  expedition.  Rein- 
forcements would  have  been  of  no  use  in  a  country 
that  was  covered  with  water,  for  the  troops  could 
not  leave  their  transports.  Relief,  if  it  came  at  all, 
must  come  from  another  quarter;  so  he  and  the  ad- 
miral resolved  to  get  into  the  Yazoo  River  below  the 
fort,  cut  it  off  from  all  help  from  Vicksburg,  and 
capture  the  garrison. 

With  this  object  in  view,  the  Sunflower  expedition, 
coasistiag  of  five  gunboats,  four  mortar  boats,  and 


10  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HmE  OUT. 

a  number  of  transports  loaded  with  soldiers,  was 
sent  into  Steel's  Bayou  from  the  Yazoo  Kiver.  This 
was  the  one  to  which  the  Decatur  belonged. 

No  one,  unless  ho  did  a  soldier's  duty  during  the 
Vicksburg  campaign,  can  imagine  the  difficulties  and 
dangers  that  boset  this  expedition  from  the  day  it 
started  until  it  got  back  to  the  open  river.  The  way 
was  bad  enough  at  the  best;  but  in  order  to  make  it 
worse,  the  Confederates  sent  over  a  body  of  sharp- 
shooters, who  not  only  cut  trees  across  the  bayous 
in  front  of  the  gunboats,  but  shot  every  one  of  the 
crew  who  dared  show  his  head  at  a  port  hole. 

This  was  the  way  Ned  Marsh  and  his  shipmates 
were  situated  on  the  night  I  introduce  them  to  the 
reader.  Of  course,  under  these  circumstances  the 
navigation  of  the  narrow,  crooked  steam  through 
which  the  fleet  was  slowly  working  its  way,  was  irk- 
some and  perilous  in  the  extreme.  It  was  no  w^onder 
that  the  crew  chafed  and  fretted,  and  longed  for  a 
fight  to  break  the  monotony. 

"  Boat  ahoy  !"  hailed  the  sentry  on  the  forecastle. 
He  did  not  shout  out  the  words  as  if  his  boat  had 
been  at  anchor  upon  the  broad  bosom  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, but  spoke  them  in  distinct  tones  just  loud 
enough  to  reach  the  ears  of  the  persons  for  whom 
they  were  intended. 

"  Ay,  ay  I"  was  the  answer  to  the  hail. 

"  A  wardroom  officer  from  one  of  the  other  ves- 
sels," exclaimed  the  young  ensign.  "He  is  coming 
down  wdth  muffled  sticks,  too,"  he  added,  as  a  dingy, 
propelled  by  four  noiseless  oars,  shot  past  the  De- 
catur's bow  and  rounded  to  under  her  after  guard. 
"  Who  is  he,  and  what  does  he  want  hero  at  this  time 
of  night  ?" 

About  five  minutes  later  this  question  was  an- 
swered in  a  way  that  made  Ned  Marsh's  hair  stand 
on  end. 


A  MISSION  OF  DANGER.  11 


CHAPTER  11. 

A    MISSION    OF    DANGEE. 

Naval  etiquette  requires  that,  on  ordinar}"  occa- 
sions, an  officer  above  the  rank  of  ensign  shall  be  re- 
ceived at  the  side  during  the  day  time  by  the  officer 
of  the  deck,  the  boatswain's  mate,  and  two  or  more 
side  boys,  the  first  saluting,  the  latter  uncovering 
their  heads  and  the  boatswain  blowing  his  whistle. 
At  night  he  is  received  with  lanterns,  the  boatswain 
and  his  pipe  being  dispensed  with.  But  this  was  not 
an  ordinary  occasion.  A  lantern  would  have  proved 
a  tempting  target  to  one  of  those  watchful  sharp- 
shooters on  the  ridge,  and  its  use  would  have  been 
contrary  to  orders;  consequently  the  visiting  officer 
had  to  scramble  aboard  in  the  dark,  and  there  was 
no  one  at  the  side  to  meet  him  except  the  officer  of 
the  deck.  The  two  were  strangers  to  each  other, 
but  that  did  not  prevent  them  from  exchanging  a 
few  hurried  sentences. 

"  How  is  everything  at  the  front  ?"  whispered  the 
Decatur's  officer. 

"Bad  enough,"  answered  the  visitor.  " I  don't  see 
how  things  could  be  worse.  We  are  completely 
hemmed  in  by  sharpshooters,  more  are  coming  in 
every  hour,  and  there  is  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
of  fallen  timber  before  us.  We  can't  stir,  and  we've 
got  to  have  help  this  very  night.  Now,  take  me  to 
the^  captain,  please.  I've  got  dispatches  for  him 
which  are  made  out  in  duplicate,  and  he  must  send 
them  to  Sherman  without  a  moment's  delay." 


12  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. . 

Tho  officer  of  the  deck  complied  with  the  request, 
and  then  came  back  to  his  post  and  told  Chips  and 
Ned  Marsh  what  tho  visitor  had  said  to  him. 

"  Duplicate  dispatches,  eh  ?"  muttered  Chips. 
"  That  means  that  two  of  our  ship's  company  are  go- 
ing to  get  disagreeable  orders  before  they  are  many 
minutes  older.  The  admiral  thinks  it  is  going  to  be 
a  ticklish  piece  of  business  to  get  word  to  Sherman 
tonight,  and  so  he  sends  two  dispatches,  hoping  that 
if  one  of  them  is  captured  or  lost,  the  other  may 
wriggle  through." 

The  carpenter  had  hardly  ceased  speaking  when 
the  captain's  clerk,  breathless  and  excited,  came  up 
the  stairs  in  two  jumps,  closely  followed  by  the  or- 
derly. The  former  was  bare  headed,  and  it  was 
against  the  law  for  any  one  to  come  upon  the  quarter 
deck  unless  he  was  properly  covered;  but  the  officer 
on  duty  did  not  take  him  to  task  for  it  as  he  would 
have  done  under  almost  any  other  circumstances. 

"  Oh,  boys  !"  exclaimed  the  clerk,  at  the  same  time 
laying  his  hand  on  Marsh's  shoulder,  "here's  the 
very  mischief  to  pay.  We  are  going  to  leave  our 
bones  up  here,  sui'e  pop." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  and  what  do  you 
want  of  me  ?"  demanded  Marsh. 

"  The  captain  wants  to  see  you.  You've  got  to  go 
and  hunt  uji  Sherman.  We  are  ordered  to  get  ready 
to  blow  up  the  ship." 

"No!"  exclaimed  his  three  auditors  in  a  breath. 

"  Yes,  we  are.  The  admiral  has  sent  word  to  the 
captain  that  he  is  surrounded  by  the  enemy  on  all 
sides,  that  he  can't  handle  his  boats  without  exposing 
his  men  to  certain  death,  and  that  he's  going  to  send 
tho  whole  fleet  to  kingdom  come  before  he  will  let  it 
fall  into  the  hands  of  tho  enemy.  This  is  what  comes 
of  trying  to  take  gunboats  overland." 

Ned  Marsh  waited  to  hoar  no  more,  but  started 


A  MISSION  OF  DANGER.  l3 

post  haste  for  the  captain's  cabin.  He  took  a  very 
white  face  in  there  with  him.  He  was  nobody's 
coward — he  had  been  twice  j)romoted  for  gallantry 
in  action — but  he  wished  his  commander  had  selected 
some  one  else  to  take  one  of  those  dispatches  down 
to  General  Sherman. 

*'  Sit  down,  Mr.  Marsh,"  said  the  captain,  whose 
face  wore  an  expression  of  anxiety  and  distress  that 
the  young  officer  had  never  seen  there  before.  "  Mr. 
Andrews  will  be  in  in  a  moment." 

"  So  my  chum  Bob  is  in  for  it,  too,  is  he  ?"  thought 
Marsh.  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  Bob  is  a  fellow  of 
good  judgment  and  undoubted  courage,  and  if  I  am 
unlucky  enough  to  get  into  trouble,  he  may  be  able 
to  go  through." 

Young  Marsh  seated  himself  in  the  chair  that  was 
pointed  out  to  him,  and  waited  impatiently  for  his 
captain  and  the  visiting  officer  to  go  on  with  the  con- 
versation which  they  had  brought  to  a  close  when  he 
came  in;  but  they  seemed  to  have  nothing  further  to 
say  to  each  other.  The  expression  on  the  captain's 
face  told  him,  in  plain  language,  that  affairs  at  the 
front  were  quite  as  bad  as  the  clerk  said  they  were. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  door  opened  again,  and  an- 
other white  faced  young  officer  came  into  the  cabin. 
This  was  acting  ensign  Andrews,  in  whose  courage 
and  judgment  Ned  Marsh  had  so  much  confidence. 
He  looked  inquiringly  at  Marsh,  and  then  his  ejes 
wandered  to  a  couple  of  heavily  weighted  official  en- 
velopes that  lay  upon  the  captain's  table.  These 
were  the  all  important  dispatches,  which  were  to  be 
thrown  overboard,  in  case  the  bearers  found  them- 
selves in  danger  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy. 

"  Young  gentlemen,"  said  the  captain,  who  never 
wasted  any  words  in  giving  an  order,  "  here  is  a  dan- 
gerous piece  of  business  for  you  to  perform.     These 


11  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

dispatclios,"  laying  his  band  upon  tbo  weighted  en- 
velopes, "are  so  very  imj^ortant,  that  the  admiral 
has  instructed  to  send  them  by  two  different  officers, 
starting  off  one  half  an  hour  in  advance  of  the  other. 
I  have  neither  seen  nor  heard  of  the  transports  since 
we  left  them  behind  the  day  before  j'esterday,  and 
they  are  probably  ten  or  fifteen  miles  down  the  bayou. 
I  shall  send  no  crew  with  you,  for  I  don't  want  to 
run  the  risk  of  losing  them.  We  have  captured  a 
good  many  skiffs  and  dugouts  since  we  left  the  liver, 
and  you  will  find  the  best  of  them  on  the  after- 
guard, from  which  you  can  make  your  own  selections. 
Of  course  you  know  what  to  do  with  these  documents 
in  case  you  get  into  trouble,"  he  added,  handing 
each  of  the  boys  one  of  the  weighted  envelopes. 
"Mr.  Andrews,  you  will  start  at  once;  and  Mr. 
Marsh,  you  will  follow  in  half  an  hour.  Find  Gen- 
eral Sherman  before  jon  come  back.  I  think  that  is 
all.     Good  by,  and  good  luck  to  you." 

These  young  fellows  held  a  high  place  in  the  esti- 
mation of  the  caj)tain,  who  was  a  regular  officer,  and 
he  was  by  no  means  as  indifferent  to  their  fate  as  he 
pretended  to  be.  There  was  a  suspicious  moisture 
in  his  eyes  when  he  arose  from  his  chair  to  take 
leave  of  them,  and  there  was  something  in  the  linger- 
ing grasp  of  his  hand  that  thrilled  them  to  every 
fiber  of  their  being. 

It  seemed  as  though  the  older  sailor  imparted  to 
them  some  of  his  own  indomitable  courage;  and 
when  they  said  their  farewells  and  hurried  from  the 
cabin,  it  was  with  the  firm  determination  that  those 
dispatches  should  go  through,  no  matter  how  many 
perils  and  obstacles  they  found  in  their  way. 

"  I  can  only  repeat  the  captain's  words,  Bob,"  said 
Ned,  as  he  held  out  his  hand  to  his  friend.  "  Good 
by,  and  good  luck  to  you." 

"  The  same  to  yourself,"  replied  Bob.     "  I  would 


A  MISSION  OF  DANGEE.  IS 

rather  go  into  battle  this  minute,  than  to  leave  the 
vessel  and  pull  off  down  that  dark  bayou,  but  I 
shipped  to  serve  my  country,  and  if  I  can  do  it  by 
carrying  dispatches,  v^^hy  the  old  man  might  as  well 
send  me  as  to  put  a  better  fellow  in  danger.     Good 

by." 

As  Bob  said  this,  he  seized  his  side  arms  (a  belt 
containing  his  sword  and  revolver)  and  ran  out  to 
report  to  the  officer  on  watch.  A  few  seconds  later 
Ned  stood  at  the  break  of  the  quarter  deck  while  a 
light  skiff,  that  had  been  caj^tured  somewhere  along 
the  bayou,  was  pushed  into  the  water,  and  then  he 
saw  Bob  get  in  and  pull  swiftly  and  silently  away 
into  the  darkness. 

Ned  had  no  time  to  be  lonely  or  to  indulge  in 
gloomy  forebodings  after  Bob  went  away,  for  he  had 
matters  of  his  own  to  attend  to — a  duty  which  no 
soldier  or  gunboatman  ever  neglects  when  he  is 
called  upon  to  go  into  danger.  He  had  a  letter  to 
finish,  and  instructions  to  give  regarding  the  dispo- 
sition that  was  to  be  made  of  his  property  if  he  fail- 
ed to  return.  Chips  was  his  friend  on  this,  as  upon 
every  other  occasion,  and  Ned  knew  that  he  had  but 
to  hint  at  a  wish  in  order  to  have  it  carried  out. 

"  Mail  the  letter  at  the  first  oj^portunity,  but  hold 
fast  to  the  trunk  until  you  receive  positive  proof 
that  I  am  dead,"  said  the  bo}^,  earnestly.  "If  I  am 
captured,  I  may  turn  up  again  most  unexpectedly, 
and  make  a  demand  upon  you  for  my  clothes.  It  is 
nothing  uncommon  for  a  prisoner  to  escape  and 
make  his  w^ay  back  to  his  vessel,  you  know,  and  I 
don't  want  my  mother  to  be  frightened  half  to  death 
unless  there  is  some  reason  for  it;  so  I  say  again, 
hold  fast  to  the  trunk  as  long  as  you  can." 

It  soon  became  known  among  the  ship's  comj)any 
that  Bob  Andrews  had  gone  off  with  dispatches  with- 
out stoi^ping  to  bid  anybody  good  by,  and  that  Ned 


16  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

Marsh  was  soon  to  follow  him  down  the  bayou.  In 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  toll  it,  tlie  lattei's  little 
stateroom  was  crowded  with  sympathizing  friends 
and  messmates,  who  wanted  to  shake  him  by  the 
hand  and  give  him  a  word  of  encouragement.  Chii:)S 
kept  close  watch  of  the  deck,  and  presently  saw  the 
orderly  come  up  and  report  six  bells  —  eleven 
o'clock. 

"  Very  good,"  replied  the  officer.  "  But  don't 
make  it  so." 

The  usual  command,  for  every  hour  except  merid- 
ian, is:  "Make  it  so;"  that  is,  "go  forward  and 
strike  the  ship's  bell  so  that  every  one  on  board  may 
know  what  time  it  is."  But  on  this  x:)articular  night 
the  order  given  was:  ''Don't  make  it  so."  The  offi- 
cer was  pacing  the  deck  with  nothing  but  the 
empty  hammock  nettings  to  protect  him,  and  he 
knew  that  the  very  first  stroke  of  the  deep  toned  bell 
on  the  turret  would  bring  a  shower  of  bullets  about 
his  ears.  He  had  heard  so  many  of  them  during  the 
last  few  hours,  that  he  was  glad  to  be  allowed  a  short 
breathing  spell. 

"Time's  up,  boys,"  said  Ned,  jumping  to  his  feet. 
"  Take  good  care  of  yourselves,  and  look  to  see  Bob 
and  mo  come  back  with  another  stripe  around  our 
sleeves." 

Accompanied  by  all  his  friends  Ned  ran  down  the 
stairs  that  led  to  the  after  guard,  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  a  light  dugout  which  he  had  hel2:)ed  capture 
the  day  before.  Chips  protested  that  the  cranky  lit- 
tle thing  would  spill  him  out  before  he  was  fairly 
away  from  the  side,  but  the  boy  was  so  determined 
to  have  his  own  way  in  the  matter  that  his  friends 
finally  i^ut  the  canoe  into  the  water  for  him,  and  saw 
him  glide  away  out  of  their  sight. 


LOST  IN  THE  SWAMP.  17 


CHAPTER  in. 

LOST    IN     THE    SWAMP. 

A  CELEBRATED  naval  commander,  in  commenting 
upon  a  very  dangerous  but  exceedingly  brilliant  ex- 
ploit that  had  been  successfully  performed  by  one  of 
the  officers  of  his  fleet,  made  use  of  this  remarkable 
language : 

"  Other  men  are  wanted  for  similar  deeds  of  valor. 
The  rewards  are  sure.  They  are  honor,  fame,  pro- 
motion and  death." 

Ned  Marsh  thought  of  these  words  as  he  turned 
the  bow  of  his  dugout  away  from  the  vessel  and 
sent  it  flying  off  into  the  darkness,  and  wondered 
which  of  these  rewards  would  fall  to  the  lot  of  him- 
self and  his  friend.  Bob  Andrews. 

When  his  canoe  shot  into  the  first  bend  in  the 
bayou  Ned  faced  about  and  took  a  long,  lingering 
look  at  the  spot  where  the  noble  vessel,  which  had 
been  his  home  ever  since  he  put  on  the  "  honored 
blue,"  was  lying  at  her  moorings,  The  darkness 
was  so  intense  that  he  could  not  see  the  faintest  out- 
line of  her.  She  seemed  to  be  shut  off  from  him  by 
a  solid  wall  of  ebony,  and  the  young  officer  strained 
his  eyes  in  the  vain  effort  to  pierce  through  it. 

In  front  of  him  the  same  black  wall  loomed  up. 
There  was  no  moon,  the  night  was  cloudy  and  star- 
less, and,  to  make  matters  worse,  the  thick  branches 
of  the  trees,  which  grew  on  each  side  of  the  narrow 
channel,  were  closely  entwined  overhead,  forming  a 


18  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

natural  arbor  so  dcnso  and  raattcd  that  the  raJ'B  of 
a  vertical  sun  could  scarcely  penetrate  it. 

Knowing  the  full  value  of  the  precious  document 
Lo  carried  in  his  pocket,  Ked  laid  out  all  his  strength 
on  his  paddle,  and,  somewhat  to  his  surprise,  ho 
never  encountered  a  single  obstacle.  If  there  was 
any  in  his  j^ath  some  unseen  power  turned  his  canoo 
away  from  it. 

During  the  two  hours  that  followed  ho  did  not  once 
pause  to  take  breath. 

The  current  in  the  bayou  was  sluggish,  backed  up 
as  it  was  by  the  high  water  in  the  Mississippi,  but 
still  it  heli)ed  him  along  a  little,  and  finally  Ned  be- 
gan to  ask  himself  why  he  did  not  hear  a  challenge 
from  some  sentry.  Ho  was  positive  that  he  had 
come  between  ten  and  fifteen  miles  since  he  left  the 
Decatur,  and  a  j^eremptory  command  to  halt  would 
have  been  a  cheering  sound  to  his  ears  just  then,  but 
he  listened  in  vain  to  hear  it.  He  knew  that  he 
could  not  have  passed  the  transports  in  the  dark,  be- 
cause the  bayou  was  so  narrow  that  ho  could  not  run 
by  them. 

"  Can  it  be  possible  that  I  have  lost  my  way  ?" 
thought  Ned,  the  cold  chills  creeping  all  over  him. 
"H  I  have,  good  by,  Decatur;  good  by,  home  and 
mother,  and  everything  else  that  is  worth  living 
for." 

And  if  ho  failed  to  get  through,  and  something 
happened  to  prevent  Bob  Andrews  from  giving  liis 
dispatch  into  General  Sherman's  hands,  what  would 
become  of  the  gunboats  and  their  helpless  crews  ? 

Ned  fairly  gasped  for  breath  when  this  inquiry 
forced  itself  upon  him,  and  his  paddle  bent  under 
the  increased  strain  he  put  upon  it.  But  with  all 
his  great  anxiety  and  nervousness  he  did  not  forget 
to  be  very  cautious  in  his  movements. 

His  paddle  rose  and  fell  with  noiseless,  measured 


LOST  IN  THE  SWAMP.  19 

stroke,  and  his  boat  glided  through  the  water  with 
scarcely  a  ripple  disturbing  the  surface;  but  silent 
as  his  progress  was,  it  was  detected. 

Loud  and  long,  and  with  startling  suddenness,  the 
bay  of  a  hound  arose  upon  the  air.  In  the  deep 
hush  of  night  the  melodious  notes  sounded  forth 
with  as  much  volume  as  those  of  a  steam  whistle. 

Ned  Marsh  could  remember  the  time,  and  it  was 
not  so  very  long  ago  either,  when  he  thought  the 
voice  of  a  hound  was  the  sweetest  music  in  the 
world;  but  he  did  not  think  so  now.  It  made  him 
tremble  in  every  limb,  for  it  told  him  that  there  was 
danger  near. 

At  the  moment  the  watchful  hound  gave  tongue 
the  canoe  glided  i^ast  a  point  of  bushes,  which  grew 
in  water  so  deep  that  Ned  could  not  touch  the  bot- 
tom with  his  paddle  to  check  his  headway,  and  out 
into  an  open  space  about  twenty  yards  long,  at 
whose  farther  end  were  the  smoldering  remains  of  a 
camp  fire. 

It  had  almost  burned  itself  away;  but  still  the 
coals  that  were  left  threw  out  light  enough  to  enable 
Ned  to  see  that  there  were  four  men  lying  beside 
the  fire,  and  that  the  fifth  had  raised  himself  to  a  sit- 
ting posture,  and  was  rubbing  his  eyes,  preparatory 
to  waking  up. 

The  man  was  a  Confederate  soldier;  there  was  no 
doubt  of  that  in  Ned's  mind,  for  he  could  see  the 
fire  light  shining  on  the  buttons  of  his  jacket. 

To  stop  where  he  was  meant  capture,  and  to  go  on 
meant  something  worse,  the  boy  told  himself,  for  he 
did  not  see  how  he  could  get  by  that  clear  space 
without  being  discovered;  but  the  latter  was  the 
only  course  that  was  open  to  him,  and  he  determined 
to  try  it,  hoping  to  accomplish  his  object  before  the 
man  got  his  eyes  open. 

He  made  ihvQO  swift,  noiseless  strokes  with  his 


20  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

paddlo,  and  then  drew  it  in  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
his  revolver.  Under  the  impetus  thus  given  to  it  the 
canoe  shot  ahead,  and,  after  a  few  seconds  of  sus- 
pense, Ned  wound  his  arms  around  a  tree  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  glade,  and  held  himself  there. 

He  was  afraid  to  go  on  till  that  man  had  gone  to 
sleep  again;  for  there  were  no  bushes  to  conceal 
him,  and  the  trees  grew  so  far  apart  that  it  would  be 
an  easy  matter  for  even  an  indifferent  marksman  to 
pick  him  off  as  he  moved  among  them. 

But  Ned  Marsh  knew  that  the  majority  of  the  men 
who  wore  gray  jackets  were  anything  but  poor  shots 
with  the  rifle.  He  had  learned  that  their  aim  was 
fatally  accurate,  and  it  was  not  his  intention  to  run 
any  risks. 

He  kei:>t  his  canoe  stationary  by  holding  fast  to 
the  tree,  and  took  good  care  to  keep  his  brass  but- 
tons out  of  sight  behind  it. 

All  this  while  the  hound  continued  to  give  tongue 
Instil}',  and  now  three  or  four  companions  joined  in 
with  him,  although  they  did  not  know  which  way  to 
look  to  find  the  object  their  leader  was  barking  at. 
By  their  united  efforts  all  the  men  in  camp  were  at 
last  brought  to  a  sitting  posture. 

"  I  wonder  if  those  are  some  of  the  hounds  that 
are  used  to  hunt  our  poor  fellows  who  try  to  escape 
from  Shreveport  and  Tyler,"  said  Ned  to  himself. 
"  If  they  are,  I  would  like  to  put  a  ball  into  the  last 
one  of  them;  and  if  they  are,"  he  added,  a  moment 
later,  trembling  all  over  with  excitement  and  alarm, 
"  I  have  stumbled  upon  some  of  the  very  worst  men 
in  the  rebel  army." 

"What  in  the  name  of  sense  and  Tom  Walker  is 
the  matter  with  the  dogs  ?"  growled  one  of  the  men 
who  had  just  been  awakened.  "  They  haven't  got  on 
the  trail  of  a  Yank,  have  they  ?" 

"  No,  I  reckon  not,"  answered   one   of  his  com- 


LOST  IN  THE  SWAMP.  21 

panions,  getting  up  to  mend  the  fire,  an  action  on 
his  part  that  caused  the  listening  Ned  no  little  un- 
easiness. "We  ain't  a  hunting  Yanks  now,  for  we 
can  get  enough  of  that  up  in  Tennessee.  We're 
after  bear  and  nothing  else.  Bogus  scented  a  coon, 
most  likely." 

When  Ned  heard  these  words,  and  saw  the  prepa- 
rations the  campers  made  to  go  to  sleep  again  after 
silencing  the  hounds,  ho  told  himself  he  understood 
the  situation  perfectly. 

They  were  all  soldiers — their  uniforms  showed 
that — Ibut  they  had  come  home  on  leave  of  absence 
to  see  their  friends  and  go  bear  hunting. 

At  any  other  time  Ned  Marsh,  who  was  an  enthu- 
siastic young  sportsman,  would  have  been  glad  of  an 
invitation  to  join  them;  but  just  now  he  wanted  them 
to  go  to  sleep,  and  leave  him  at  liberty  to  find  his 
way  back  to  the  bayou  and  down  to  the  transports. 

He  was  fully  satisfied  by  this  time  that  he  was 
lost.  The  camp  fire  was  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
bayou,  and  when  he  came  along  there  on  board  the 
Decatur  a  few  hours  before,  he  took  note  of  the  fact 
that  there  was  not  a  foot  of  dry  land  to  be  seen  in 
that  direction. 

It  followed,  then,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  he 
had  left  the  Rolling  Fork  (that  was  the  name  of  the 
bayou  in  which  the  fleet  was  tied  up  for  the  night), 
and  turned  into  one  of  the  numerous  little  streams 
that  branch  off  from  it  in  every  direction,  and  there 
he  was,  on  the  borders  of  an  extensive  swamp,  with 
darkness  all  about  him,  with  not  a  single  familiar 
landmark  to  guide  him  in  his  search  for  the  trans- 
ports, and  with  a  fair  prospect  of  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy  as  soon  as  daylight  came  to  re- 
veal his  presence  to  them. 

"  I  am  not  caught  yet,  but  for  fear  that  I  may  be, 
I  will  just  take  this  dispatch  out  of  my  pocket  and 


22  LUKE  BENNETT'S  lUDE  OUT. 

place  it  on  tbo  bottom  of  my  cauoo,  so  fashion," 
tliouglit  Ned,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word.  **  Then 
when  I  am  summoned  to  come  ashore  and  give  my- 
self ui"),  I  can  jump  to  my  feet  in  alarm,  capsize  the 
boat,  and  the  dispatches  will  go  down  among  the 
catfish  and  gars,  while  Ned  Marsh  will  take  a  trip  to 
Texas.  Now,  then,  are  those  men  over  going  to 
sleep,  I  wonder  ?" 

The  campers  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  do  bo.  They 
were  wide  awake  now,  their  fire  was  burning  bright- 
ly, and  they  sat  up  to  see  it  burn,  composedly  smok- 
ing their  pipes  and  conversing  in  low  tones,  while 
Ned  hugged  his  tree  and  listened  to  the  beating  of 
his  own  heart. 

If  they  saw  his  canoe,  and  Ned  did  not  see  how 
they  could  heli^  it  if  they  made  any  use  whatever  of 
their  eyes,  they  probably  took  it  for  a  log  which 
had  come  down  with  the  current  and  got  stranded 
there. 

At  length,  to  the  young  ofiicer's  immense  relief, 
the  campers  sought  their  blankets,  one  after  the 
other,  and  in  fifteen  minutes  more  they  were  fast 
asleep  again. 

Then  Ned  let  go  his  hold  upon  the  tree,  placed 
the  blade  of  his  paddle  against  it,  and  with  one 
strong  push  sent  his  canoe  out  into  the  current, 
which  took  it  into  its  grasp  and  carried  it  slowly  out 
of  the  light  of  the  camp  fire. 

That  danger  was  passed,  but  where  in  the  wide 
world  was  he,  and  which  way  should  ho  go  to  find 
the  transports  ? 


NED  MEETS  A  FRIEND.  23 


CHAPTER  IV. 

NED    MEETS    A    FKIEND. 

In  blissful  ignorance  of  tlie  dangers  he  was  run- 
ning into,  Ned  Marsh  continued  to  ply  his  paddle 
vigorously,  pausing  now  and  then  to  listen,  and  to 
renew  his  vain  efforts  to  see  through  the  thick  dark- 
ness which  concealed  even  the  nearest  objects  from 
his  view.  If  he  had  not  been  blessed  with  un- 
common nerve,  his  courage  would  have  given  way 
utterly  under  the  crushing  sense  of  desolation  and 
hopelessness  that  weighed  upon  him.  He  was  tired 
and  hungry,  and  began  to  feel  the  need  of  rest 

"  I  don't  think  I  had  better  go  ahead  in  this  blind 
way  any  longer,"  thought  he.  "  I  am  only  exhaust- 
ing myself  to  no  good  purpose,  and  perhaps  it 
would  be  a  good  plan  to  save  the  little  strength  I 
have  left  for  a  possible  emergency.  I  believe  I'll  tie 
up  and  wait  for  daylight." 

With  this  object'^in  view  Ned  paddled  to  the  side 
of  the  bayou  and  presently  found  a  tree,  to  which 
the  painter  was  quickly  made  fast.  He  did  not  in- 
tend to  go  asleep — he  did  not  think  it  would  be  pos- 
sible under  the  circumstances.  He  sat  there  in  the 
darkness  with  his  revolver  in  his  hand,  longing  for 
daylight,  and  listening  and  hoping  in  vain,  and  then 
he  sank  back  upon  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  and  in 
two  seconds  more  became  oblivious  of  all  surround- 
ing things. 

He  slumbered  peaceably  for  hours,  and  at  last 


2i  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

opened  liis  eyes  to  find  that  it  was  broad  daylight, 
and  started  up  to  discover,  to  his  no  small  amaze- 
ment and  alarm,  that  there  was  another  canoe  in  the 
bayou,  close  alongside  of  him.  Its  solitary  occupant 
was  an  old  gray  headed  negro,  who  gazed  at  him 
with  eyes  that  seemed  ready  to  start  from  their 
sockets.  Scarcely  realizing  what  ho  was  doing,  for 
he  was  not  yet  fully  awake,  Ned  snatched  his  re- 
volver and  leveled  it  at  the  black  man's  head. 

"  Hi  yi !"  ejaculated  the  latter,  in  frightened  tones, 
at  the  same  time  raising  his  paddle  in  front  of  his 
face,  as  if  he  hojied  its  thin  blade  would  afford  him 
some  protection  from  the  deadly  bullet.  "Luff  dat 
thing  down,  moss'r,  please  sar.  "What  for  you  wan' 
go  and  shoot  ole  Sam  ?" 

(I  have  heard  a  good  many  plantation  darkies 
talk,  but  I  never  yet  heard  one  of  them  say  "  massa." 
If  the  word  is  pronounced  alone,  it  is  always 
"moss'r;"  if  it  is  followed  by  a  Christian  name,  it  ia 
contracted  to  "  moss',*'  as  "  Moss'  John,  Moss'  Tom, 
and  so  on.) 

Having  got  his  wits  about  him  by  this  time,  the 
young  officer  promptly  lowered  the  threatening 
weapon.  Ho  had  not  the  least  intention  of  injuring 
the  old  negro,  for  he  well  knew  that  helj),  if  it  came 
to  him  at  all,  must  come  through  people  of  his 
clans. 

"  Say,  moss'r,  what  you  doing  sleeping  dar,  wid  de 
gray  backs  all  around  liyar  ?"  exclaimed  the  negro, 
who  felt  safer  when  he  saw  the  revolver  disappear 
behind  the  side  of  the  canoe.  "  You  mighty  foolish 
Yankee,  I  tell  you  dat  for  a  fac'." 

"  I  am  here  because  I  can't  help  myself,"  answered 
Ned.  "  I — I  think  that  perhaps  I  have  got  a  littla 
out  of  my  reckoning.  I  couldn't  see  where  to  go  in 
the  dark,  and  so  I  stopped  to  wait  for  daylight 
This  is  Rolling  Fork,  I  suppose  ?" 


NED  MEETS  A  FRIEND.  25 

"Dis  hyarl"  exclaimed  the  negro,  showing  the 
whites  of  his  eyes  in  amazement.  "  No,  sar.  Roll- 
ing Fork  twenty  miles  off  dat  a  way,"  he  added, 
pointing  in  a  direction  opposite  to  the  one  Ned  had 
been  foiiow^ing  for  the  last  few  hours.  "  Whar  you 
think  you  w^an'  go,  anyhow  ?" 

"I  want  to  go  to  Rolling  Fork,"  answered  the 
young  officer,  w^ho  had  never  felt  so  lonely  and  for- 
saken as  he  did  when  he  heard  the  negro  confirm  his 
worst  suspicions.  "  You  can  show  me  the  way  there, 
can't  you  ?" 

"  Not  for  no  money  in  dis  wide  w^orld,  moss'r !"  ex- 
claimed old  Sam,  who  seemed  terribly  frightened  by 
the  mere  mention  of  such  a  thing.  "  De  rebbels  all 
around  dar  now,  shooting  at  de  gunboats.  Ketch 
ole  Sam,  and  make  him  go  for  a  mule  whacker,  or 
work  in  de  trenches.  Sam  too  ole  for  dat  kind  of 
business,  moss'r,  and  he  don't  like  de  rebbels  nohow\ 
Sam  Union  to  de  backbone." 

"Then  you  ought  to  be  willing  to  help  a  Union 
man  when  he  is  in  trouble,"  said  Ned,  w^ho  thought 
seriously  of  compelling  the  darky,  at  the  muzzle  of 
his  revolver,  to  take  him  back  and  show  him  w^here 
Rolling  Fork  was.  It  is  probable  that  he  would 
have  done  so,  had  it  not  been  for  an  unexpected  in- 
terruption that  occurred  before  he  had  got  his  plans 
fully  matured. 

"  What  have  you  got  in  there  ?"  Ned  went  on, 
pointing  to  a  bundle  that  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the 
negro's  canoe.  "  If  it  is  anything  good  to  eat,  trot 
some  of  it  out,  for  I  am  almost  famished." 

The  negro's  canoe  was  loaded  with  provisions,  and 
he  quickly  complied  with  the  hungry  officer's  com- 
mand to  "  trot  some  out."  Ned  grew  hungrier  than 
ever  as  his  gaze  rested  upon  the  good  things  that 
were  disclosed  to  view  when  old  Sam  threw  off  the 
snow  white  cloth  that  covered  the  bundle. 


26  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

There  were  two  huge  "  pones "  of  corn  bread, 
■which  had  doubtless  been  baked  in  a  Dutch  oven; 
as  many  roasted  chickens,  and  a  whole  side  of  bacon; 
a  big  i^ail  of  milk,  and  a  peck  or  more  of  sweet  po- 
tatoes. 

"  No  man  over  put  up  that  lunch,"  said  Ned.  "It's 
a  woman's  work.  Where  did  it  come  from,  and 
where  are  you  taking  it?" 

"  My  missus  done  x^ut  it  up,  an'  tole  me  to  tote  it 
down  to  her  boy — ni}^  young  Moss'  Luke,"  answered 
the  negro.  *'  I  reckon  you  call  dis  mighty  good 
grub,  don't  you  ?  You  jes'  oughter  been  down  hyar 
*fore  de  wah  come,"  added  ole  8am,  as  he  j^roceeded 
to  cut  off  and  butter  a  generous  slice  from  one  of  the 
"  pones."  *' We  don't  have  nuffin'  now  like  we  used 
to  have  'fore  de  g'rillas  done  come  and  stole  every- 
thing from  us." 

"The  guerrillas!"  repeated  Ned.  "^Tiy,  they 
are  your  own  peoj^le.     They  didn't  steal  from  you." 

**  Oh,  yes  dey  did,  moss'r,"  the  negro  insisted. 
"  Done  took  every  thing 'cepting  what  young  Moss' 
Luke  run  off  and  hid  in  de  cane.  Hab  dis  leg  of 
chicken,  too,  sah.  Buttermilk  or  sweet  milk,  sah  ? 
I  don't  reckon  Moss'  Luke  will  car'." 

"  Well,  I  don't  reckon  it  will  make  much  differ- 
ence whether  ho  cares  or  not,"  said  Ned,  speaking 
as  plainly  as  a  mouthful  of  corn  bread  and  chicken 
would  i^ermit.  "  Luke  is  in  the  trenches  at  Yicks- 
burg,  of  course,  and  you  are  taking  this  grub  down 
to  him.  Consequently  it  will  bo  my  duty  to  confis- 
cate it  for  the  good  of  the  service.  Now,  uncle, 
strike  out  and  show  me  the  way  to  Rolling  Fork. 
Don't  waste  any  time  in  argument,  but  go  on.  I  am 
in  a  ^reat  hurry." 

"  Wha-wha-wha'  you  talk  in*  'bout,  boy  ?"  exclaim- 
ed Sam,  as  soon  as  he  recovered  from  his  amaze- 
ment.    "  Doy  doJio  conscripted  olo  Moss'r  Bennett 


NED  MEETS  A  FKIEND.  27 

an'  de  bigges'  boy  into  de  army,  but  Moss  Luke,  lie 
much  too  smart  for  'em.  He  done  run  off  and  hide 
in  de  cane,  and  de  rebbels  couldn't  cotch  him. 
Moss'  Luke  jes'  as  good  a  Union  man  as  you  be,  and 
so  is  de  rest  of  de  family.  Dey  wouldn't  like  for  ole 
Sam  to  go  up  to  de  Rolling  Fork  to  be  tooken  into 
de  army  to  whack  mules  and  dig  in  de  trenches,  kase 
den  who  could  tote  de  letters  and  grub  to  young 
Moss'  Luke  ?  He  can't  come  home  'cepting  now  and 
then  once  in  a  great  while,  kase  de  g'rillas  would 
cotch  him  sure;  and  ole  Sam,  he  have  to  do  all  de 
business." 

When  this  conversation  first  began,  the  old  negro 
had  brought  his  boat  around,  with  the  bow  pointing 
up  stream,  and  he  was  now  keeping  it  stationary  by 
holding  fast  to  Ned's  canoe,  which  was  still  tied  to 
the  tree.  While  he  was  sj^eaking,  Ned  noticed  that 
he  was  always  on  the  alert.  From  the  force  of  habit, 
probably,  he  kept  his  eyes  roaming  about  among  the 
trees,  and  occasionally  he  would  bend  down  so  that 
he  could  see  a  longer  way  through  them.  This  he 
did  while  protesting  against  Ned's  order.  When  he 
ceased  speaking  he  straightened  up  like  a  jack-in- 
the-box,  and  seized  his  j)addle  with  hands  that  trem- 
bled visibl}'. 

"De  good  Lawd,  look  down  on  us  poor  miserable 
niggers  1  Dar  they  come  dis  blessed  minute,"  said 
he,  in  a  frightened  whisper. 

"They?  Who?"  demanded  Ned,  involuntarily 
lowering  his  own  voice. 

"De  rebbels.  Look  a  dar,"  replied  the  negro, 
pointing  up  the  bayou  with  his  paddle. 

Ned  looked,  and  saw  two  or  three  boats  mo"vdng 
about  among  the  trees.  The  men  who  handled  them 
were  all  dressed  in  gray,  and  there  were  brass  but- 
tons on  their  coats. 


LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  V. 

LEFT    TO    ni9     FATE. 

"  I  KNOW  dat  fustest  man,  and  lie's  de  bigges'  rebel 
in  Mississii^,"  whispered  tlie  negro,  who  was  so  bad- 
ly frightened  that  he  could  not  talk  plainly.  "  Ole 
8am  gone  up  now  for  a  fac' !  He'll  have  to  whack 
de  army  mules  and  break  his  ole  back  a  dinning  wid 
a  shovel,  suah.*' 

"Well,  I  am  not  gone  up  yet,"  whispered  Ned,  in 
reply.  "  I  am  gohig  to  run,  and  if  you  know  a  place 
of  safetj',  I  want  you  to  take  me  to  it.  Be  quick  and 
still.  They  haven't  seen  us,  and  we  may  get  away 
before  they  can  pull  on  us." 

As  Ned  spoke,  he  cast  off  the  painter  with  which 
his  canoe  was  tied  to  the  tree,  and  with  one  sweep 
of  his  paddle  turned  the  little  craft  around,  and 
headed  her  down  the  bayou.  The  movement  brought 
Sam  to  his  senses,  and  at  the  same  time  i^ut  a  little 
life  and  energy  into  him.  Seeing  that  he  would  be 
left  to  face  the  rebels  alone  if  he  did  not  bestir  him- 
self, he  quickly  brought  his  own  boat  around,  and 
80  vigorously  did  ho  ply  the  paddle  with  his  sinewy 
old  arms,  that  ho  soon  put  himself-  in  front  of 
Ned;  but  ho  did  not  attempt  to  run  away  from 
him. 

"Stick  close  to  your  Uncle  Sam,  and  he'll  take 
care  of  you,"  said  he,  in  low,  excited  tones.  '*  Moss* 
Luke  wouldn't  like  for  me  to  drap  you  hyar  for 
dem  rebbela  to  cotch.  If  I  do  dat,  ho  jaw  ole  Sam, 
6uah." 


I 

LEFT  TO  HIS  FATE.  31 

Better  hiding  places  than  these  swamps  afforded, 
at  the  time  of  which  I  write,  could  not  have  been 
found  anj^wliere  in  the  country.  The  trees,  which 
grew  as  close  together  as  they  do  in  any  piece  of 
woods  on  your  grandfather's  farm,  were  thickly  fes- 
tooned with  mosses  and  climbing  plants,  and  the 
wood  colored  canoes  of  the  fugitives  looked  so  much 
like  the  logs  that  were  floating  along  with  the  cur- 
rent, or  lying  stranded  on  the  snags,  that  it  would 
have  been  an  easy  matter  for  them  to  escape  discov- 
er}^ if  they  could  have  remained  at  rest.  But  dim  as 
the  light  was  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the  forest,  it 
was  reflected  from  the  dripping  blades  of  their 
paddles,  and  that  betrayed  them  to  the  sharp  eyes  of 
the  same  watchful  hound  which  had  warned  his 
master  when  Ned  Marsh  incautiously  approached 
his  camp  Are.  j  Once  more  his  deep  toned  bay  rang 
in  the  young  officer's  ears  like  the  knell  of  death. 

"Pull,  moss'r,"  whispered  the  negro,  looking  back 
over  his  shoulder.  "  Dey  begin  to  bang  wid  their 
guns  purty  soon." 

"And  they  are  dead  shots,  too,"  replied  Ned. 

"  Well,  the  bushes  right  hyar,"  said  the  negro, 
who  had  turned  out  of  the  bayou  and  was  scudding 
off  over  the  country  at  a  surprising  rate  of  speed. 
"  Can't  see  us  after  we  get  behind  de  bushes." 

Just  then  a  hail  from  the  rear  told  them  that  the 
men  in  gray  had  discovered  them. 

"  You  Sam  !"  shouted  the  leader,  after  silencing 
the  hound,  so  that  he  could  make  himself  heard. 
*'  You  Sam,  what  are  you  running  off  that  way  for  ? 
Hold  up,  or  I'll  send  a  bullet  after  you.  There's 
two  of  them,"  he  added,  a  moment  later,  "  and  if 
the  other  fellow  hasn't  got  a  blue  uniform  on,  I'm  a 
nigger  myself.'* 

"A  Yank !"  shouted  one  of  his  comj)anions.  "He's 
a  sjDy  !     Catch  him !" 


32  LUKE  BENNETTS  HmE  OUT. 

"  Or  a  bearer  of  dispatches,"  said  another. 
"  Shoot  him,  before  he  can  throw  his  papers  over- 
board !" 

Although  the  men  in  gray  tried  their  best  to  carry 
out  both  these  suggestions,  their  efforts  were  un- 
successful. The  bushes  of  which  Sam  had  spoken 
were  close  at  hand,  and  before  the  pursuers  could 
catch  up  their  guns,  the  fugitives  were  out  of  sight. 
The  bullets  and  buckshot  tore  through  their  frail 
protection  and  splintered  the  bark  from  the  trees, 
l)ut  none  of  the  missiles  struck  them,  although  old 
Sam  had  a  very  narrow  escape,  one  of  the  bullets 
passing  through  the  side  of  his  canoe.  His  eyes 
rolled  with  fright,  but  he  did  not  cease  his  exertions 
at  the  paddle. 

When  the  rebels  came  up,  he  and  Ned  were  not  to 
be  seen;  and  when  they  gave  over  looking  for  them 
two  hours  later,  they  had  pushed  their  canoes  so  far 
into  the  cane  two  miles  away,  that  a  regiment  of  men 
might  have  searched  for  them  in  vain. 

"I  ssij,  Uncle  Sam,"  exclaimed  Ned,  taking  off  his 
cap  and  mopping  his  flushed  face  with  his  handker- 
chief, "it's  a  lucky  thing  for  us  that  this  country  is 
all  under  water.  If  it  were  not,  those  rebels  could 
use  their  hounds  to  trail  us." 

"Dat's  true  for  a  fac',"  replied  Sam.  "Them 
hound  dogs  will  trail  anything,  from  a  bar  to  a  nig- 
ger. I  knows  'em,  and  de  men  folks  dat's  wid  'em, 
too." 

"I  ran  on  to  their  camp  last  night  before  I  knew 
it,"  said  Ned,  •*  and  that  same  hound  gave  tongue  in 
a  way  that  made  me  shiver  all  over.  Who  are  they, 
any  way  ?  I  took  them  for  a  party  of  soldiers  who 
are  spending  their  furlough  in  hunting." 

"  Dat's  jes'  what  dey  is,  Moss'r — Jim,  did  you  say 
your  name  was  ?" 

"  No;  you  may  call  me  Ned,"  answered  the  officer. 


LEFT  TO  HIS  FATE.  33 

who  thougTit  that  perhaps  his  sable  companion 
would  feel  more  at  his  ease,  if  he  knew  how  to  ad- 
dress him. 

"Wal,  dat's  what  dey  come  for,"  continued  the 
negro,  "  to  hunt  bar  and  see  their  folks,  and  do  all 
kinds  and  sorts  of  meanness  to  their  neighbors  who 
don't  think  jes'  as  they  do." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  are  any  Union 
people  around  here  besides  the  darkies  ?"  inquired 
Ned,  who,  like  a  good  many  of  the  rest  of  us,  thought 
that  every  man  who  wore  a  gray  jacket  must  of  neces- 
sity be  a  rebel  at  heart. 

"I  do,  for  a  fac',"  answered  Sam,  earnestly. 
"  There's  heaps  and  stacks  of  jes'  as  good  Union 
folks  in  Mississip  as  ever  you  dare  be.  Moss'  Ned. 
But  I  can't  talk  to  you  'bout  dat,  kase  I'se  a  nigger, 
and  I  don't  know  much;  but  I'll  take  j^ou  to  my 
young  Moss'  Luke's  hide  out  as  soon  as  it  comes 
dark,  and  he  will  tell  you  a  heap  of  things." 

"  Must  I  stay  here  until  dark  ?"  exclaimed  Ned, 
who  wondered  what  would  become  of  the  gunboats 
in  the  meantime,  if  Bob  Andrews  had  not  already 
succeeded  in  getting  through  with  his  dispatches. 
"  I  wouldn't  have  had  this  happen  for  anything.  It 
may  prove  to  be  a  terrible  piece  of  w^ork  for  me,  but 
I  don't  see  how  I  could  have  avoided  it.  Do  you 
think  your  master  will  be  willing  to  act  as  my  guide 
to  Boiling  Fork?" 

"  No,  sar,  I  don't,"  replied  the  negro,  emphatical- 
ly. "You  see,  the  Johnnies  is  conscripting  every- 
body, from  de  little  boy,  jes'  big  enough  to  tote  a 
shooting  iron,  up  to  de  ole  man  what  ain't  got 
strength  enough  to  tote  himself,  let  alone  a  gun,  and 
dey's  been  tr3dng  for  a  long  time  to  get  a  holt  of 
Moss'  Luke  and  de  four  3'oung  fellers  dat's  wid  him. 
Moss'  Luke  won't  go  no  nigher  to  Vicksburg  dan  he 
is  now,  I  bet  you.'* 


34  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

Ned  was  very  much  disappointed  to  hear  this,  for, 
late  as  it  was,  he  still  cherished  the  hope  that  he 
might  deliver  his  dispatches  in  time  to  be  of  some 
service  to  the  beleaguered  men  on  board  the  gun- 
boats. But  it  was  useless  to  think  of  making  an  at- 
tempt to  find  the  general,  now  that  that  huntiiig 
part}'  had  found  out  that  he  was  hiding  somewhere 
in  the  swamp.  Knowing  that  he  had  important 
l^apers  in  his  jiossession,  Ned  believed  that  they 
would  let  the  bears  rest  in  peace  for  a  ^^hile,  and 
draw  a  bee  line  for  Rolling  Fork,  with  the  intention 
of  capturing  him  when  he  tried  to  deliver  those 
papers. 

"Well,"  said  Ned,  with  a  long  drawn  sigh  of  resig- 
nation, "  it  is  useless  for  me  to  cry  over  what  I  can't 
help.  I  think  I  had  better  get  some  sleep  while  I 
can.     Tomorrow  I  may  be   dead  or  a  ]>risoner." 

"  No,  sar,"  said  the  negro  again.  "  Trust  to  your 
Uncle  Sam,  INIoss'  Ned,  trust  to  your  Uncle  Sam. 
You  go  to  sleep  now,  and  he  will  take  care  of  you." 

With  the  utMiost  confidence  in  the  negro's  loyalty, 
Ned  wrapped  his  boat  cloak  around  him,  lay  down 
in  his  canoe,  and,  with  his  dis])atclies  under  his 
head  for  a  pillow,  sank  into  the  land  of 
dreams. 

And  how  fared  it  with  Bob  Andrews  all  this 
while  ?  By  some  extraordinary  streak  of  good  luck, 
such  as  might  not  have  attended  him  again  in  a  hun- 
dred years,  he  kept  his  skiff  in  the  bayou,  witliout 
once  wandering  away  into  any  of  the  little  sticams 
til  at  branched  off  from  it,  and  in  due  time  he  was 
halted  by  a  sentry  statioiuMl  at  the  f(U"ecastle  of  the 
leading  transport.  His  dis]>at('hes  were  given  into 
tlie  hands  of  the  officer  for  whom  they  wei'e  intend- 
ed, and  in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afiei-ward, 
the  steamer  was  trying  to  force  her  way  up  Black 
Bayou  in  the  direction  of  llolliug  Fork. 


LEFT  TO  HIS  FATE.  35 

But  it  was  slow  and  tedious  work,  for  the  pilot  did 
not  know  tha  channel,  and  the  night  was  so  dark 
that  he  could  not  see  where  he  was  going.  Becom- 
ing impatient  at  last,  and  perhaps  urged  on  by  some- 
thing he  heard  Bob  Andrews  tell  one  of  his  staff  re- 
garding the  perilous  situation  of  the  gunboats,  the 
general  ordered  the  troops  to  disembark  and  jnish 
forward  on  foot. 

They  floundered  through  the  overflow  to  the  ridge 
before  s^Doken  of,  along  which  they  lighted  their  way 
wdtli  candles  carried  in  their  hands.  With  infinite 
difficulty  they  marched  a  mile  and  a  half  t]iat  night, 
and  then  went  into  camp  until  morning.  By  noon 
the  next  day  they  had  covered  twenty  one  miles 
more,  scattered  the  sharpshooters  like  chaff  before 
the  wind,  and  saved  the  fleet.  While  Ned  Marsh 
was  slumbering  there  in  the  cane,  the  Decatur  was 
backed  out  of  the  bayou  toward  the  Mississii:)pi, 
leaving  him  to  his  fate. 

Bob  Andrews,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  reported  that 
Ned  had  not  been  seen  on  board  the  general's  trans- 
port, and  then  they  knew  that  one  of  three  things 
had  happened  to  him  He  was  either  lost,  killed  or 
captured. 

Rough  old  Chij^s  Avas  almost  heart  broken.  The 
missing  officer  was  a  great  favorite  with  him,  as  in-> 
deed  he  was  with  every  one  on  board  the  vessek 


36  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER   VL 

A    GREETING    IN    THE   DARK, 

It  seemed  to  Ned  Marsli  that  Le  had  scarcely 
closed  his  eyes  when  a  hand  was  laid  gently  ou  his 
shoulder,  and  old  Sam's  voice  -whispered  in  his  ear: 

"  Time  to  wake  up,  now,  nioss'r.  Take  a  little  bite 
of  something  to  eat  and  a  good  drink  of  milk,  and 
den  we  will  go  and  find  Moss'  Luke.  Hi,  yi !  won't 
he  open  his  eyes  when  he  sees  a  live  Yankee  come 
up  to  his  hide  out?" 

It  was  jDitch  dark  again,  and  at  first  the  young  offi- 
cer did  not  know  where  he  was.  He  could  not  see 
the  negro  or  his  canoe;  l)ut  he  managed  to  find  the 
bread  and  chicken  and  the  cu^i  of  milk  tliat  Sam  was 
trying  to  put  into  his  hands,  and  he  was  quite  hun- 
gry enough  to  disj^ose  of  them. 

"  How  far  is  Luke's  hide  out  from  here  ?"  asked 
Ned,  wdio  wondered  how  many  more  hours  he  would 
have  to  pass  in  that  intense  darkness  before  he  could 
see  the  face  of  a  white  man  again. 

"  Wal,  it's  a  right  smart  piece,"  was  Sam's  rci)ly. 

"  Is  it  a  mile  ?" 

"  I  reckon  so,  sar." 

"Is  it  five  miles?" 

"  Mebbe  it  is,  sar." 

Ned  saw  veiy  j^lainly  that  it  was  of  no  use  to  try 
to  get  any  information  out  of  Sam. 

The  latter  did  not  intend  that  even  a  Union  gun- 
boatman  should  gain  the  faintest  idea  regarding  the 
locality  of  that  hide  out,  if  he  could  help  it. 


A  GEEETING  IN  THE  DARK.  37 

Ned  admired  Lim  for  his  loyalty  to  his  young 
master.  He  said  no  more  until  he  had  finished  his 
bread  and  milk,  and  then  he  passed  back  the  empty 
cuj)  and  announced  that  he  was  ready  to  start. 

The  first  thing  the  negro  did  was  to  take  Ned's 
painter  and  make  it  fast  to  a  ring  in  the  stern  of  his 
own  canoe.  This  was  to  prevent  them  from  becom- 
ing separated  in  the  darkness,  and  the  young  officer 
was  glad  that  Sam  thought  of  it,  for  even  after  he 
got  out  of  the  cane  into  the  open  swamj^  he  could 
not  see  the  nearest  trees.  Sam  must  have  had  owl's 
eyes  in  his  head,  Ned  told  himself,  for  although  the 
canoes  grazed  some  of  the  trees  as  they  passed, 
they  did  not  come  in  actual  contact  with  a  single 
one  of  them.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  the  negro 
said: 

"  Now,  Moss'  Ned,  you  stay  right  hyar  till  you 
see  me  agin,  I  must  ax  Moss'  Luke  what  he  thinks 
'bout  my  bringing  you  to  his  hide  out.  I'll  be  back 
d'rectly." 

While  Sam  was  speaking  he  cast  off  the  j^ainter 
that  held  the  two  boats  together,  and  moved  away 
so  silently  that  Ned  did  not  hear  the  dip  of  his  pad- 
dle; but  in  a  few  minutes  he  heard  something  else 
that  told  him  which  way  his  sable  friend  had  gone. 
It  was  a  perfect  imitation  of  the  bark  of  a  red  squir- 
rel. It  was  faint  and  far  off,  and  so  was  the  answer, 
which  came  to  his  ears  a  moment  later.  Another 
half  hour  i^assed  away,  and  then  Ned  w^as  startled 
by   hearing   a  voice,    almost   at  his  elbow,   saying: 

"  Is  you  dar.  Moss'  Gunboat  ?" 

How  Sam  had  managed  to  find  his  way  through 
that  dark  and  trackless  swamp  back  to  the  very  tree 
where  he  had  left  him  w^'is  something  the  young 
officer  could  not  understand.  He  replied  that  he 
was  there;  whereupon  another  voice  said,  in  well 
modulated  and  courteous  tone: 


38  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  I  "bid  you  welcome,  sir,  to  tliis  most  inhospitable 
country.  I  can't  see  you,  but  there  is  my  hand,  if 
you  can  find  it." 

Ned  did  find  it  after  a  while,  and  he  knew  by  the 
heart}"  ic:rip  it  gave  his  own  that  he  had  found  an- 
other friend. 

*'  ]\Iy  name  is  Luke  Bennett,"  continued  the  new- 
comer; "and  it  may  put  you  at  your  ease  to  know 
that  I  am  hiding  in  this  swamp  to  keep  from  going 
into  the  rebel  army.  It  is  enough  for  me  to  know 
that  you  are  in  trouble  and  want  help,  and  it  is  none 
of  my  business  what  brought  you  out  here.  But  I 
should  judge  that  you  were  sent  on  detaclied  duty 
of  some  sort,  and  that  you  got  bewildered  among 
these  bayous." 

"  That's  just  it,"  replied  Ned.  "  I  am  very  anx- 
ious to  see  one  of  our  officers,  to  whom  I  have  an  im- 
portant communication  to  make.  Can  you  show  me 
the  way  to  Rolling  Fork  ?" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  cannot,"  rei)lied  Ned's  in- 
visible friend.  "  Even  Sam  could  not  find  his  way 
through  in  the  dark,  and  it  would  be  as  much  as  our 
lives  are  w^orth  to  attem2)t  to  go  there  in  the  day- 
time. The  hunting  party,  that  Sam  tells  me  you 
had  an  adventure  Avitli  this  morning,  is  made  uj)  of 
a  bad  lot  of  citizens,  who  will  leave  no  stone  un- 
turned to  effect  tlie  capture  of  myself  and  conijiaji- 
ions,  and  we  dare  not  shoAV  ourselves  abroad  until 
their  leaves  of  absence  expire  and  they  go  back  to 
the  army.  The  only  thing  you  can  do  is  to  remain 
my  unwilling  guest  until  the  way  is  clear,  and  then 
I  will  take  you  back  to  your  friends  again,  if  there  is 
any  possible  chance  for  me  to  do  it.  I  will  feed  you 
well  and  take  good  care  of  you." 

Ned  Marsh  was  disappointed  again;  but  there 
seemed  to  be  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  to  acce]it 
the  invitation  thus  freely  and  cordially  given.     He 


A  GREETING  IN  THE  DAEK.  39 

said  as  mucli,  at  the  same  time  expressing  his  hearty 
thanks  for  his  new  friend's  kindness  and  courtesy. 

"  Of  course  that's  understood,"  answered  Luke 
Bennett.  "Some  writers  say  that  our  good  acts 
spring  from  selfishness,  and  I  am  free  to  confess 
that  it  has  a  good  deal  to  do  with  my  invitation.  I 
am  sorry  that  you  are  in  trouble,  but  glad  that  you 
will  have  to  stay  with  us  for  a  speJl.  My  friends 
and  I  get  very  lonely,  hiding  here  as  we  do,  like  so 
many  hunted  wolves;  and  the  sight  of  a  new  face, 
and  the  sound  of  a  strange  voice,  provided,  of  course, 
that  the  face  and  the  voice  do  not  belong  to  a  Johnny, 
are  always  welcome  to  us." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  visitors?"  in- 
quired iSfed,  bending  over  to  assist  Sam,  whose  hands 
were  moving  along  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  search- 
ing for  the  painter.  "  I  shouldn't  think  they  could 
find  you  in  this  swamp." 

"They  can,  and  they  do  frequently,"  said  Luke, 
with  a  light  laugh.  "  You  see,  we  keep  a  station  on 
the  underground  railroad.  AYe  don't  assist  negroes 
to  get  over  to  Canada,  as  you  Northern  people  did 
before  the  war,  but  we  help  all  the  deserters  we  see, 
who  are  tired  of  army  life,  and  want  to  go  home. 
Are  you  made  fast,  Sam  ?  Then  come  on.  The 
boys  will  get  uneasy  if  we  don't  show  uj)  pretty 
soon." 

Ned  Marsh  was  profoundly  astonished  by  the  turn 
affairs  had  taken,  and  if  he  had  only  been  sure  that 
Bob  Andrews  had  taken  his  dispatches  through  in 
safety,  and  that  General  Sherman's  troops  had  gone 
to  the  relief  of  the  gunboats,  he  would  have  felt 
perfectly  at  his  ease. 

He  had  often  told  himself  that  the  South  must 
have  been  a  pleasant  country  to  live  in  before  the 
war,  because  he  there  found  something  that  he  had 
never  before  seen  or  heard  of — a  refined  and  cul- 


40  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

turecl  society,  with  an  abuiicLauce  of  game,  both 
large  and  small,  almost  witliiu  sight  of  the  doors  of 
aristocratic  homes.  Of  course  there  Avas  more  igno- 
rance among  the  masses  than  there  was  in  the  North, 
fur  there  was  not  a  single  State  in  rebellion  that  had 
a  system  of  common  schools  worthy  tlie  name;  but 
the  well-to-do  people  were,  as  a  rule,  educated. 

Luke  Bennett,  if  one  might  judge  by  the  language 
he  used  in  conversation,  had  not  only  enjoyed  ex- 
ceptional educational  privileges,  but  had  made 
the  most  of  them.  He  talked  like  a  Northern  ])oy, 
and  with  good  reason,  too,  for  he  had  received 
most  of  his  schooling  in  tlie  Empire  State. 

Ned  Marsh  was  not  at  all  averse  to  camping  out 
for  a  while,  seeing  that  he  could  not  help  himself; 
and  he  was  glad  to  learn  that  among  his  companions 
there  would  be  at  least  one  boy  who  knew  as  much 
of  the  world  and  of  books  as  he  did  himself.  Al- 
though he  had  not  seen  even  the  outlines  of  Luke 
Bennett's  face  and  figure,  Ned  thought  he  could  give 
a  pretty  good  description  of  him. 

For  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  silence  reigned,  broken 
only  by  the  occasional  splash  of  a  paddle;  and  then 
a  continuous  grating  along  the  side  of  his  canoe, 
accompanied  by  several  sharp  blows  in  the  face,  told 
Ned  that  he  was  being  towed  into  another  cane- 
brake.  It  was  a  long  way  through  it,  biit  the  other 
side  Avas  reached  at  last,  and  then  Ned  found  liimself 
standing  on  dry  ground  for  the  first  time  in  twenty 
four  hours,  and  in  full  glare  of  a  cheerful  camp 
fire. 

The  moment  the  bow  of  his  boat  grated  on  the 
bottom,  it  was  seized  by  ready  hands,  which  pulled 
it  high  upon  the  bank,  while  others  were  extended 
to  help  him  ashore.  As  he  had  forgotten  to  tell 
Luke  what  his  name  was,  he  was  obliged  to  intro- 
duce himself. 


A  GREETING  IN  THE  DARK.  41 

"  My  name  is  Edward  Marsh,  and  I  am  acting  en- 
sign on  board  the  gunboat  Decatur,"  said  he.  "  I 
am  sorry  to  be  here,  for  I  have  left  a  most  important 
duty  undone;  but  since  I  am  here,  I  am  glad  to 
meet  you." 

Ned's  recej^tion  could  not  have  been  more  cordial 
and  friendly,  and  it  had  the  effect  of  putting  him  at 
his  ease  at  once.  He  seated  himself  on  the  rude 
camp  chair  that  was  placed  in  front  of  the  fire  for 
his  accommodation,  and  then  turned  to  look  at  the 
leader  of  this  little  party  of  refugees,  to  whom  he 
felt  himself  drawn  in  some  unaccountable  way. 

He  was  just  such  a  fellow  as  Ned  imagined  him 
to  be,  after  hearing  his  voice  in  the  dark.  He  did 
not  appear  to  be  more  than  seventeen  years  old,  but 
he  was  as  tall  as  a  man,  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  and 
his  broad  shoulders  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  i)os- 
sessed  plenty  of  strength. 

He  walked  with  a  springy  step,  and  was  as  quick 
as  a  cat  in  his  movements.  His  features  were  finely 
cut,  his  face  was  as  brown  as  an  Indian's,  and  his 
long  black  hair,  curling  at  the  ends,  fell  down  upon 
his  shoulders.  He  was  dressed  in  a  complete 
suit  of  butternut,  which  was  patched  in  several 
places,  but  he  wore  it  with  the  air  of  a  prince.  He 
did  not  look  like  a  boy  who  would  run  from  his  own 
shadow,  and  Ned  told  himself  that  if  Luke  was 
afraid  to  go  to  Kolling  Fork,  he  did  not  want  to  go 
there,  either. 


42  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

LUKE    BENNETT    AND    HIS    FRIENDS. 

Of  course  Luke  Bcnuctt  aud  bis  four  friends  were 
quite  as  much  interested  in  Nod  Maisli  as  tlie  latter 
was  in  them.  The  youii<L»-  ofticer  coukl  see  that  they 
were  almost  bursting  with  curiosity  to  k  arn  how  he 
came  to  be  wanderin*^'  about  the  swamp  so  far  away 
from  his  vessel,  but  they  were  much  too  i)olite  to 
pry  into  the  matter,  and  so  Ned  tokl  his  story  with- 
out waiting  to  be  questioned. 

"  We  knew  that  you  were  going  to  get  into 
trouble  when  we  heard  that  you  were  going  up 
there,"  said  Luke,  when  Ned  ceased  Gpeaking. 
"  But  those  gunboats  do  make  a  fearful  light,  don't 
they  r 

"  I  suppose  you  tliiiik  you  are  going  to  get  Yicks- 
burg  now,  don't  you  V"'  said  Tom  Pike,  who  sat  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  fire. 

"A\'e  couhl  not  be  more  certain  of  it  if  we  had 
the  phxce  in  our  ])OSsession  at  this  minute,"  was 
Ned's  answer.  "  We  gunboatmen  hold  that  the 
siege  of  Vicksburg  will  be  the  turning  point  of  the 
war.  It  will  surely  be  taken,  and  then  the  Confed- 
eracy will  begin  to  fall  to  pieces." 

"  I  hope,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  that  you 
are  a  true  prophet,"  said  Luke  Bennett,  earnestly. 
"  We  five  fellows  have  got  relatives  in  those  trenches, 
fighting  against  the  old  flag;  but  they  are  as  good 
Union  men  as  any  you  can  find  in  the  North,     They 


LUKE  BENNETT  AND  HIS  FRIENDS.  43 

Lad  their  clioice  between  going  into  the  army  and 
seeing  tlieir  homes  burned  over  the  heads  of  their 
wives  and  little  children.  I  tell  you,"  added  Luke, 
turning  his  flashing  eyes  full  uj)on  the  young  officer, 
"it's  a  cheap  thing  to  be  lo3'al  up  North,  where  nine 
out  of  ten  people  think  as  you  do;  but  it  costs 
something  down  here,  in  the  heart  of  the  Confed- 
eracy." 

"  I  know  it  does,"  was  all  Ned  could  say. 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  Joe  Eamsay.  ''  You  want  to 
know  whom  you  are  talking  to  before  you  give  ut- 
terance to  Union  sentiments  down  here.  Why, 
Duckfoot,  you  can  have  no  concej^tion  of  the  state 
of  things  that  existed  right  here  in  this  neighbor- 
hood on  the  twelfth  of  AjDril,  '61,  the  day  that  Sum- 
ter was  fired  on.  "We  came  near  having  a  little 
civil  war  on  our  own  hook.  More  than  one  family, 
who  had  never  known  what  it  was  to  have  the  small- 
est difference  of  opinion,  suddenly  discovered  that 
it  was  divided  against  itself,  some  of  the  members 
hurr^'ing  off  to  enlist  under  the  '  stars  and  bars,' 
and  the  others  holding  wp  for  the  Union.  Neigh- 
bors, who  had  always  been  on  the  most  friendly 
terms,  turned  against  each  other  quicker  than  a 
flash;  the  property  of  loyal  men  was  seized  and  de- 
stroyed; and  my  father  was  given  to  understand 
that  if  he  didn't  straighten  up  his  business  and  go 
into  the  army  m  a  little  less  than  no  time,  he  would 
be  hanged  to  the  j^lates  of  his  own  gallery." 

"  Tbe  women  were  the  worst  of  the  lot,"  said  one 
of  the  boys,  who  had  not  spoken  before.  *'  Of  course 
some  of  them  were  so  blue  that  it  would  rub  off,  but 
the  majority  were  rebs  clear  through.  If  a  fellow 
had  a  sweetheart,  he  would  be  told  that  if  he  Avanted 
his  love  affairs  to  run  smoothly,  he  mur.t  have  a  gray 
jacket  on,  and  be  all  ready  to  go  into  the  army  the 
next  time   he   came   to   see   her.     They   are   sorry 


U  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

enough  for  it  now,  whon  it  is  too  late,  for  they  sent 
many  a  fine  fellow  to  his  death  by  such  talk  as 
that." 

"  And  the  last  one  of  them  is  as  poor  as  Job's 
turkey,"  said  Luke.  "  Believing,  as  a  good  many 
people  down  here  did,  that  one  reb  ^^as  as  good  as 
five  Yanks,  they  gave  everything  they  could  si)are  to 
the  army.  Ryder's  guerillas  came  along  and  stole 
what  they  had  kept  for  their  own  use,  and  now  they 
are  utterly  destitute.  Some  of  them  would  have 
starved  to  death,  had  it  not  been  for  the  assistance 
they  received  from  the  Union  people  whom  they 
abused  and  ihsulted  at  the  beginning  of  the  war. 
The  men  who  tried  to  capture  you  and  Sam  are  not 
hunting  for  fun.  They  want  to  get  a  little  meat  for 
their  families." 

"  A  little  while  ago  you  called  me  Duekfoot,"  said 
Ned,  turning  to  Joe.  "  That's  what  the  soldiers  call 
a  gunboatman;  but  where  did  you  ever  hear  the  ex- 
pression '?" 

"  On  board  one  of  your  vessels,"  answered  Joe. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  on  a  gunboat  ?"  exclaimed 
Ned. 

"Of  course  I  have;  we  all  have.  We  have  been 
fifty  miles  up  the  river  to  trade  garden  truck  with 
them  for  shoes,  stockings,  coffee,  tea,  sugar  and  salt. 
The  brogans  I  am  wearing  now  came  off  the  gunboat 
Forest  Kose." 

"  And  the  shirt  I  have  on  came  out  of  the  same 
locker,"  said  J-juke. 

The  next  moment  all  the  refugees  suddenly  jumjv 
ed  to  their  feet,  and  raising  tlieir  bands  to  enjoin  si- 
lence upon  Ned,  l)ent  their  heads  forward  ami  stood 
listening  intently. 

For  the  space  of  two  or  three  minutes  they  stood 
there,  waiting  and  listening,  and  then  with  a  com- 
mon  impulse   resumed   their   seats — all  excejit  old 


LUKE  BENNETT  AND  HIS  FKIENDS.  45 

Sam,  who  got  into  bis  canoe  without  saying  a  word, 
and  disappeared  in  the  cane, 

"It's  Tramp,"  said  Luke,  by  way  of  explanation, 
while  an  expression  of  anxiety  settled  on  his  face. 
"  It  is  something  unusual  for  him  to  be  sent  out 
here  at  this  time  of  night,  and  I  am  afraid  there  is 
bad  news  for  us." 

"  Tramp  is  our  courier,"  said  Joe,  who  saw  that 
Ned  did  not  yet  understand  the  matter,  and  that 
Luke  was  thinking  so  busily  about  something  else, 
that  he  could  not  go  on  with  his  explanation.  "  He's 
a  hound,  you  know\  Don't  you  hear  him  giving 
tongue  ?" 

Ned  listened  with  all  his  ears,  but  was  obliged  to 
confess  that  he  did  not. 

"  We  all  heard  him  very  plainly,  and  I  hear  him 
now,"  continued  Joe.  "  But  you  are  not  obliged  to 
keep  your  eyes  and  ears  oj^en  day  and  night,  as  we 
have  been  for  long,  weary  months,  and  consequent^ 
ly  you  don't  notice  little  things  that  attract  our  at- 
tention at  once.  Next  to  Uncle  Sam,  Tramp  is  the 
most  useful  member  of  our  family.  He  brings  us 
news,  as  often  as  our  folks  have  any  to  send  us,  and 
is  so  impatient  to  start  back  with  our  answer,  that 
some  of  us  have  to  hold  him  in  order  to  make  him 
wait  till  we  can  write  it." 

"  Tramp  is  the  smartest  dog  I  ever  saw,"  observed 
Tom.  "We  think  he  belongs  somewhere  up  the 
country,  and  that  he  got  lost  while  hunting.  He 
came  to  us  on  the  day  we  went  into  the  swamp,  and 
has  been  with  us  ever  since.  We  never  thouoht  of 
teaching  him  to  carry  our  mail  for  us;  he  took  to  it 
of  his  own  accord.  Tlie  strangest  part  of  the  whole 
business  is,  he  seems  to  understand  the  situation 
perfectly.  Although  he  has  aA^era.o-ed  two  trijis  a 
day  between  our  hide  out  and  Mr.  Bennett's  planta- 
tion ever  since  Ave  have  been  here,  he  has  never  once 


46  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

been  seen,  and  that  proves  conclusively  that  he  must 
give  every  one  he  meets  a  wide  berth." 

"  But  for  fear  that  somebody  will  see  him,  he  al- 
waj's  runs  with  his  nose  close  to  the  pj-round,  and 
barks  as  if  he  were  following  a  trail,"  said  Frank 
Barron,  one  of  the  two  l)oys  who  had  done  more  lis- 
tening than  talking.  "  Our  w^onien  folks  have  often 
watched  him  when  he  was  starting  out  across  the 
old  cotton  field  to  come  here. 

"  Does  he  carrv  the  letters  in  his  mouth  ?"  inquired 
Ned. 

"No,  they  are  tied  around  his  neck;  and  as  they 
are  written  on  very  thin  paper,  his  long  hair  covers 
them  uj)  so  that  you  can't  see  tliat  there  is  anything 
there.  It  wouldn't  be  a  safe  jnece  of  business  for 
an}'  stranger  to  try  to  take  one  of  those  dispatches 
away  from  him,  for  he  is  almost  as  big  as  a  yearling, 
and  would  just  as  soon  fight  as  eat." 

"But  they  might  shoot  him,  you  know,"  said  Luke; 
"and  that  is  what  they  will  do  when  they  find  out 
that  it  is  through  him  that  we  keep  posted  in  all 
that  is  going  on  in  the  settlement.  You  heard  him 
that  time,  didn't  you  ?"  he  added,  as  a  single  long 
drawn  bay  echoed  through  the  SAvamp. 

"Tdid,  and  I  thought  it  sounded  as  though  he 
was  welcoming  some  one." 

"  And  so  he  was.  Sam  has  probably  taken  him 
into  his  canoe.  Our  suspense  will  not  last  long, 
boys.  AVe  shall  very  soon  know  why  he  was  sent 
out  at  this  hour." 

A  slight  movement  in  the  cane  told  the  watchful 
boys  that  old  Sam's  dugout  was  close  at  liand.  It 
came  in  sight  a  moment  later,  with  Tramji  sitting  up 
in  the  bow  as  a  figure  head.  He  did  not  wait  for  the 
canoe  to  touch  the  shore,  but  clrnrcd  the  intervening 
water  with  a  mighty  bonnd.  His  first  move  was  to 
spring  up  and  place  his  big  paws  on  Luke's  shoul- 


LUKE  BENNETT  AND  HIS  FRIENDS.  47 

ders,  and  the  second  to  turn  liis  head  and  growl 
savagely  at  Ned,  whose  presence  he  instantly  de- 
tected. 

"  Hi,  yi  I"  exclaimed  old  Sam,  reproachfully. 
"  Dat's  a  Union  man,  Tramp.  What  for  you  wan' 
malie  faces  at  him  ?    I  'shamed  on  you,  I  is  so." 

Luke  Bennett  lost  no  time  in  pushing  aside  the 
wet  hair  on  the  hound's  neck  and  taking  possession 
of  the  little  package  he  found  there,  wrapped  up  in 
a  piece  of  oiled  silk.  Ned  could  see  his  hands  trem- 
ble as  he  untied  it;  but  when  he  had  run  his  eye  over 
the  words  that  were  written  on  the  paper,  he  finally 
brought  to  light,  he  brightened  up  and  said,  cheer- 
fully: 

"Mother  hasn't  told  us  anything  that  we  don't 
know  already.  There  is  nothing  private  in  it,  and 
so  I  will  read  it  aloud.  Perhaps  it  will  give  our 
friend  Duckfoot  a  clearer  idea  of  the  dangers  that 
hang  over  our  heads  than  any  words  of  mine  could 
do." 

So  saying,  Luke  drew  a  camp  chair  nearer  to  the 
fire,  smoothed  the  letter  out  on  his  knee  and  read  as 
follows: 

My  Deae  Boy,— Mrs.  Ramsay  has  just  ridden  down  to  tell 
me  that  Colonel  St.  Clair,  Captain  Griiffin,  and  two  planters  from 
the  upper  settlement,  whose  names  she  does  not  know,  have 
returned  home  on  a  furlough,  accompanied  by  your  old  enemy, 
Ike  Bishop.  They  have  positive  evidence,  so  they  say,  that  we 
have  a  large  sum  of  money  hidden  somewhere  in  the  woods,' 
and  they  do  not  intend  to  go  back  to  the  army  until  they  get 
it.  Amos  Ryder's  guerrillas  say  the  same.  Thej^  made  an  or- 
ganized raid  through  the  settlement  this  morning.  They 
stationed  guards  around  our  houses,  so  that  we  could  not  com- 
municate with  one  another,  and  then  sent  in  men  who  turned 
everything  upside  down  in  the  vain  effort  to  discover  the  hid- 
ing place  of  our  valuables.  They  broke  almost  every  article  of 
furniture  that  was  left  in  Mrs.  Ramsay's  house,  tore  up  the 
floor 

"  That  Amos  Kyder  is  a  man  I  am  going  to  shoot 
on  sight,"  exclaimed  Joe,  who  could  not  hold  in  any 


48  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

longer.  "  The  villain  wlio  treats  my  motlier  that 
way  shall  not  live  to  pollute  the  earth." 

"  And  I  will  leave  a  notice  on  Colonel  St.  Clair's 
doorstep,  telling  him  that  if  he  doesn't  leave  the  eet- 
tlement  within  twenty  four  hours  after  he  reads  it, 
and  go  back  to  the  army  where  he  belongs,  he  will 
return  from  his  hunt  to  find  his  fine  house  a  pile  of 
ashes." 

There  was  no  bluster  in  all  this,  but  there  was  a 
look  of  quiet  determination  on  Luke's  face  and  Joe's, 
which  told  Ned,  in  plain  language,  that  they  were 
terribly  in  earnest.  Luke  smoothed  out  the  letter 
again,  moved  a  little  closer  to  the  fire  and  went  ou 
with  his  reading: 

They  broke  almost  every  article  of  furniture  that  was  loft  in 
Mrs.  Ramsay's  house,  tore  up  the  lloor,  cut  open  her  bed  and 
scattered  it  all  over  the  yard,  and  were  insolent  and  abusive  to 
her  besides,  although  she  has  often  fed  the  wives  and  children 
of  those  very  men. 

To  come  back  to  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  his  party :  They  gave 
out  that  they  were  going  into  the  cane  to  hunt  bear  meat  for 
their  families;  but  they  told  some  of  their  particular  friends 
that  they  want  you  more  than  they  want  meat,  and  that  when 
they  catch  you  they  will  make  you  tell  wh(ne  that  money  is 
concealed,  or  they  will  leave  you  hanging  from  a  tree  in  the 
swamp. 

I  know  that  in  some  mysterious  way  you  manage  to  keep 
yours.^lves  well  informed  regarding  everything  that  goes  on  in 
the  settlement,  and  perhaps  I  have  told  you  nothing  new;  but 
still  I  thought  I  had  better  put  you  on  your  guard.  Now,  dear 
boys,  one  and  all,  do  be  careful  of  yours<^lv(>s.  We  pray  daily 
and  hourly  that  you  may  be  kept  as  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand, 
that  this  unhappy  war  mav  be  speedily  terminated,  and  all  our 
absont  dear  ones  be  brought  back  to  us  in  safety.  Hurriedly, 
but  lovingly,  Motheb. 

When  Luke  read  these  affectionate  closing  words, 
he  did  as  Ned  Marsh  had  often  done  when  his  own 
mother  wrote  to  him  in  a  similar  strain — he  turned 
away  his  head  and  drew  his  handkerchief  from  his 
pocket.  The  others  were  equally  affected,  and  for  a 
few  minutes  there  was  silence  in  the  camp.  Ned 
wondered  if  Luke  and  Joe  would  hold  to  the  resolu- 


LUKE  BENNETT  Ai^D  SIS  FRIENDS.  51 

tion  they  made  a  few  minutes  before,  and  when  the 
former  spoke,  he  found  out. 

"  Mother  doesn't  say  how  those  ruffians  treated 
her,"  said  Luke,  at  length,  "but  I  have  every  reason 
to  believe  that  she  did  not  fare  any  better  at  their 
hands  than  your  mother  did,  Joe.  Father  was  very 
outsj)oken  in  his  Unio^  sentiments,  and  those  scoun- 
drels St.  Clair  and  Kyder  have  not  forgotten  it. 
That  man  has  reckoned  without  his  host  if  he 
imagines  that  he  can  come  back  here  and  work  his 
own  sweet  will  with  people  who  do  not  believe  as  he 
does,  and  he  will  find  it  out  before  he  is  many  hours 
older.  He  shall  not  stay  here.  Now,  if  one  of  jou 
fellows  will  hold  Tramp,  I'll  write  a  short  answer 
and  send  him  back  with  it.  I'll  tell  mother  that 
we've  got  a  live  Duckfoot  here  on  exhibition." 

As  Luke  said  tliis,  he  turned  and  disappeared  in 
a  way  that  was  utterly  bewihlering  to  Ned  Marsh. 
He  seen:ied  to  walk  straight  into  the  side  of  a  hill 
that  stood  a  short  distance  behind  the  camp  fire. 


52  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  YIII 

A    NICE     LITTLE     PLAN. 

"  Good  morninfTf,  Captain  Ryder." 

The  speaker  was  Ike  Bishop,  a  tall,  j^awky  youth, 
of  about  seventeen  years,  who  stood  leaning  over  the 
little  gate  in  front  of  a  rambling  log  house.  Tlie 
man  to  whom  these  words  Avere  addressed,  and  wlio 
was  riding  along  the  road  mounted  on  a  small  and 
very  dibfjndated  specimen  of  the  mule  species,  drew 
rein  and  returned  the  greeting  with  an  awkward  at- 
temj^t  at  a  military  salute.  The  boy  s})orted  a  non- 
deseri2)t  uniform,  half  blue  and  half  gray,  while  the 
man  was  dressed  in  butternut;  but  tliey  both  wore 
l)rass  buttons  on  their  jackets.  They  both  had  the 
same  slouchy  loose  jointed  frame,  the  same  long  un- 
kempt hair,  and  you  could  have  told  at  a  glance  that 
they  belonged  to  tliat  class  of  people  known  in  the 
South  as  "  white  trash." 

Captain  Ryder  rode  up  to  the  gate,  leaned  over 
the  jiommel  of  his  saddle,  and  stuck  out  a  dirty,  be- 
grimed paw  to  be  shaken  by  the  boy. 

"  Wal,  I  do  think  in  my  soul,  Ike  I>isho2">,"  said  he, 
as  soon  as  he  had  somewhat  recovered  from  his  sur- 
prise. "What  brung  you  down  here?  I  allowed 
that  you  were  up  in  the  Tennessee  mountings  a 
fighting  of  the  Yanks;  dog  gone  'em  all,  I  say." 

"I  say  so  too,"  answered  Ike.  "I've  jest  como 
from  thar,  but  tliar  ain't  no  lightin'  going  on  now, 
an'  that's  how  me  an'  the  kurn  an'  cap  made  out  to 


A  NIOE  LITTLE  PLAN.  53 

get  a  furlong — I  mean  Kurn  St.  Clair  an'  Caj) 
Griffin." 

"  Be  they  home,  too  ?"  exclaimed  Ryder.  "  I  shall 
be  mighty  j)roud  to  shake  'em  by  the  hand.  How's 
everything  up  thar,  an^^  how?  Lickin' the  Yanks 
every  time  you  get  the  chance,  1  reckon." 

"You  bet;  but  they  don't  often  give  us  the 
chance.  We're  holdin'  'em  now  wi-h  a  tight  grip  at 
Murfreesboro,  so't  they  can't  come  down  hyar  an' 
help  G-rant  at  Vicksburg.  We've  been  doin'  good 
work  up  thar  in  Tennessee,  but  you  fellows  down 
hyar  don't  amount  to  shucks." 

"Now  I'll  jest  tell  you  what's  a  fact,"  exclaimed 
the  guerrilla  captain.  "  What's  makes  you  say 
that,  Ike  Bishop  ?" 

"  'Cause  it's  the  gospel  truth,  that's  why.  Hyar's 
all  the  loyal  Confed'rites  starving  to  death  for  grub; 
my  mother,  she  ain't  got  no  shoes  to  bless  herself 
wdth;  the  cows  is  all  lyin'  out  in  the  cane;  thar  ain't 
no  men  folks  about  to  shoot  hog  meat  for  her;  and 
hyar's  you  uns,  ridin'  round  with  jour  double  barrel 
scatter  guns,  an'  makin'  b'lieve  you're  fightin'  for  the 
'federacy;  an'  all  the  hull  time  these  Union  folks 
have  got  enough  and  to  spare.  Dog  gone  such  fel- 
lows as  you  be,  any  way.  The  kurn,  he's  mighty 
mad  about  it,  I  can  tell  you  that;  an'  he  says  he's 
the  best  notion  in  the  world  to  report  you  to  the 
department  commander  an'  have  your  commission 
took  away  from  you.  He  wants  it  give  to  somebody 
who  will  fly  around  an'  do  something." 

"  But  what  can  we  uns  do  ?"  demanded  Ryder. 
"  We  'listed  to  fight,  an'  if  the  Yanks  will  come  whar 
we  uns  be,  we'll  lick  'em  outen  their  boots.  But  you 
see,  they  know  better'n  to  come  hyar." 

"You  uns  couldn't  go  where  they  be,  I  reckon, 
could  you  ?"  said  Ike,  wdth  a  grin. 

''  Over  to  Yicksburg  ?"  cried  the  guerrilla  captain, 


54  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"Not  much.  "We're  i^artisans.  We  'lect  our  own 
officers,  an'  I'm  the  Swamp  Fox.  I  named  myself 
after  General  Marion,  you  know.  I  ain't  'shamed  of 
the  name  either,  for  I've  hearod  tell  that  he  was 
a  good  fighter,  an'  that  he  licked  the  Britishers  fear- 
ful" 

"Yes,  I've  heared  he  did;  but  I  don't  reckon  he 
laid  round  an'  waited  for  them  to  come  to  him.  He 
hunted  'em  up,  and  whopped  'em  every  place  he 
could  find  'em.  If  I'd  been  captain  of  such  a  com- 
pany of  men  as  you've  got,  I  would  have  been  rich 
long  before  this  time.  Why,  man,  thar's  a  fortune 
right  h^-ar  in  this  settlement." 

"  Whar  is  it '?"  demanded  Ryder.  "  I  know  as  well 
as  you  do,  that  thar's  lots  of  gold  and  silver  hid 
about  these  diggings,  but  I'd  like  to  see  you  or  an}'- 
body  else  find  it." 

"  Wal,  I'll  bet  you  that  St.  Clair  an'  Griffin  will 
find  it  before  they  go  back  to  the  army,"  said  Ike, 
decidedly.  "  They  told  me  that  that's  one  thing 
that  they  come  hum  for.  Hyar  you  uns  have  been 
fiddlin'  round  for  'most  two  years,  Aiid  you  ain't  a 
cent  better  off  than  you  were  Avhen  the  war  first  be- 
gun. Have  you  uns  ever  searched  Bennett's  house, 
or  Ramsay's,  or  Barron's  ?  I'll  bet  a  boss  you  ain't. 
Good  laws  !  If  I  had  only  had  my  company  hyar 
for  a  little  while,  I'd  show  you  uns  how  we'd  pound 
music  outen  them  fine  planners  with  the  butts,  of 
our  carbines." 

"I wonder  would  the  kurn  take  a  holt  an'  help  me 
if  I  should  do  it  today,"  said  Ryder,  who  began  to 
think  that  perhaps  he  had  been  remiss  in  his  duty. 
"I  don't  like  to  pester  them  that  a  way,  'cause  they're 
my  neighbors,  an'  they  have  give  my  women  folks  a 
bite  to  eat  now  an'  then.  I'll  say  that  much  for  'em, 
if  they  do  side  with  the  Yanks.  Would  the  kurn 
take  a  holt,  do  you  think?" 


A  NICE  LITTLE  PLAN.  55 

"  No,  I  don't  reckon  he  would,  'cause  why,  he's  got 
to  go  back  to  the  army  when  his  furlong  gives  out, 
an'  thar's  them  five  fellers  loose  in  the  swamps. 
He's  too  good  a  soldier,  the  kurn  is,  to  leave  an  ene- 
my in  the  rear;  an'  I  don't  reckon  he'll  keer  to  pes- 
ter Luke's  mother,  for  fear  that  Luke  will  get  even 
with  him  in  some  way  the  minit  his  back  is  turned." 

"  An'  can't  he  get  even  with  we  uns  too  ?"  de- 
manded Kyder. 

"  You  uns !"  exclaimed  Ike,  in  a  tone  of  disgust. 
'*  The  hull  kit  an'  bilin'  of  you  ain't  got  five  cents' 
worth  of  i3ro23erty  to  lose." 

"  Wal,  I  reckon  the  little  we  have  got  is  worth  as 
much  to  us,  as  Kurnel  St.  Clair's  fine  house  is  to 
him,"  said  Byder,  indignantly. 

"  An'  you're  right  hyar  on  the  ground  to  look  out 
for  it,  ain't  you  ?  If  the  kurn  was  goin'  to  stay  to 
hum,  I  tell  you,  he  would  make  things  lively  for 
them  five  fellers  that's  layin'  around  in  the  swamp, 
hidin'  out  when  they  oughter  be  fightin'  for  the 
'federacy." 

"  Now,  thar's  a  p'int  that  I  have  often  wanted  to 
speak  to  somebody  about,"  remarked  Captain  Eider, 
after  a  short  pause.  "  You  have  been  in  the  army 
an'  can  tell  me  all  about  it.  What  did  them  Yanks 
come  down  hyar  with  foot  an'  critter  fellers  to  fight 
we  uns  for  ?  That's  what  gets  ahead  of  my  time. 
We  uns  never  done  nothin'  to  them — not  the  fust 
thing." 

*'  What  are  you  fightin'  for  ?"  inquired  Ike. 

"  'Cause  I  ain't  a  goin'  to  let  myself  be  whopped; 
that's  why." 

"  Wal,  the  Yanks  are  fightin'  for  our  niggers,"  said 
Ike.  "They  say  that  they  are  jest  as  good  as  we  be, 
an'  that  we  ain't  got  no  right  to  make  them  work  for 
us.  They  want  'em  to  be  free,  and  that's  what  made 
'em  sot  the  war  a  goin'." 


56  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  Wal,  I  do  tliiuk  in  my  soul !"  exclaimed  Ryder, 
who  had  never  had  the  matter  explained  to  him  be- 
fore. "  Why,  the  niggers  would  starve  to  death  if 
they  didn't  have  a  master  to  look  out  for  them." 

"  That's  what  I  say,"  replied  Ike.  "  I'd  like  pow- 
erful well  to  have  the  war  tooken  up  North,  so't 
them  Yanks  can  see  how  good  it  feels  to  have  their 
houses  burned  up,  their  critters  all  killed  or  carried 
away  to  feed  the  army,  an'  their  women  folks  goin* 
without  grub  to  eat,  but  I'd  like  a  heap  better  to  be 
the  means  of  makin'  that  Luke  Bennett  an'  the  fel- 
lers that's  with  him  trot  out  the  money  they  have 
been  hidin'  from  us  so  long.  You've  got  the  power 
in  your  own  hands,  an'  I  don't  see  why  you  don't 
use  it.  All  the  best  people  in  the  settlement  would 
stand  b}"  you." 

"lAvill  use  it  this  very  day,"  said  Cai:)tain  Ryder, 
with  emphasis.  "  A  man  who  says  a  nigger's  as 
good  as  I  be,  shan't  keep  no  gold  laying  round  whar 
I  can  get  my  hands  onto  it,  I  bet  you.  Who's  them 
comin'  thar  ?" 

"  It's  Kurnel  St.  Clair,  Caj^'n  Griffin  an'  two  j^lant- 
ers  from  the  upper  settlement,  who  come  hum  on  a 
furlong  the  same  time  I  did,"  answered  Ike.  "  We're 
goin'  out  after  that  bar  meat  now,  which  means 
Luke  Bennett  an'  the  money  he's  got  hid  in  the 
swamp." 

It  was  the  sudden  appearance  of  four  men  in  gray 
uniforms,  who  came  riding  down  the  lane,  that 
turned  the  conversation  into  this  channel.  To  make 
the  settlers  believe  that  they  were  a  hunting  party, 
and  nothing  else,  they  brought  with  them  four 
hounds,  and  among  them  was  the  one  that  gave  Ned 
Marsh  so  much  uneasiness. 

One  could  see  at  a  glance  that  these  men  belonged 
to  a  better,  and  consequently  more  dangerous  class 
of  citizens  than  Cautaiu  Ryder  and  Ike  Bishop  did. 


A  NICE  LITTLE  PLAN.  57 

They  were  intelligent  men,  who  went  into  the  war 
with  their  eyes  open,  and  knowing  full  well  that  the 
object  of  it  was  to  establish  a  separate  rejDublic 
whose  corner  stone  should  be  slavery.  The  reason 
why  they  did  not  take  more  pains  to  explain  the 
situation  to  such  fellows  as  Ryder  and  Ike  was  be- 
cause they  did  not  consider  them  worth  the  trouble, 
and  besides,  they  did  not  think  the  "  white  trash  " 
had  brains  enough  to  understand  it.  All  they  asked 
of  them  was  to  fight  their  battles;  and  how  well 
they  did  it  history  shows.  They  returned  the  mili- 
tary salutes  that  were  given  them  as  they  rode  up, 
got  off  their  horses  and  asked  Ike  if  the  boats  wer(> 
ready. 

"  The  canoes  have  been  down  thar  in  the  bayon 
waitin'  for  you  uns  all  the  mornin',''  was  Ike's  repl3\ 
"  Say,  kurnel,  can't  we  uns  go  down  to  Rollin'  Fork 
and  take  a  look  at  them  gunboats?  I've  beared  tell 
that  our  people  have  come  over  from  Yicksburg,  an' 
got  'em  in  a  tight  place.  Mebbe  we  might  get  a 
chance  to  take  a  poj)  at  some  of  them  fellers  "who 
think  a  blue  uniform  is  so  much  purtier'n  the 
gray." 

"  We  talked  that  over  as  we  rode  along,  and  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  perhaps  it  would  be  a  good 
I)lan,"  replied  the  colonel.  "  If  our  brave  i3eople 
are  in  need  of  assistance,  Ave  must  give  it  to  them; 
and  if  they  are  going  to  win  a  victory,  Ave  oua'ht  to 
be  there  to  share  in  the  honors  of  it.  Captain  Ry- 
der, why  don't  you  put  your  company  into  boats 
and.  take  them  to  Rolling  Fork?  The  sixty  or 
seventy  good  shots  that  you  haA^e  in  your  command 
ought  to  make  things  liA'ely  for  the  Yankees  AA^hen 
they  get  Avarmed  up  to  their  work." 

"  Kurnel,  thar  ain't  boats  enough  in  Mississip  to 
carry  my  company  over  thar,"  ansAvered  Ryder. 
"  The  Yanks  have  tooken  off  an'  cut  up  the  most  of 


68  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

*em,  an'  the  rest  is  bid  iu  the  cane  -svhar  nobodT 
can't  find  'em." 

"But  you  have  had  jilenty  of  time  to  buikl  l)oats 
since  that  ex])edition  started  into  these  bayous,"  was 
Coh)nel  St.  Chxir's  rejoinder.  "  A  man  of  any  energy 
coukl  have  accomplished  wonders,  while  you  have 
been  loafing  around  doing  nothing.  You  don't  seem 
to  have  done  the  first  thing  for  your  country  since  J 
went  to  Tennessee.  I  see  that  the  houses  of  well 
known  Union  men  are  still  standing,  when  they 
ought  to  have  been  in  ashes  long  ago.  That  doesn't 
sj^eak  well  for  your  zeal  in  the  cause." 

"  But  you  must  admit  that  it  sj^eaks  volumes  for 
his  prudence,"  one  of  the  colonel's  friends  ventured 
to  remark.  "  I  do  not  know  of  any  one  in  the  coun- 
try who  would  go  to  greater  lengths  to  ^^^mish  an 
act  of  that  kind  than  Luke  Bennett  would.  He 
knows  that  we  are  here,  as  well  as  we  know  it  our- 
selves; and  if  B^^der  and  his  men  should  become 
active  all  on  a  sudden,  he  wouldn't  be  long  in  find- 
ing out  who  was  to  blame  for  it.  You  want  a  house 
to  live  in  when  you  come  home  from  the  war,  after 
our  independence  has  been  secured,  and  so  do  I; 
consequently  I  am  opposed  to  any  extreme  measures. 
Let's  devote  our  time  to  finding  the  money  and 
leave  the  houses  alone." 

Captain  Byder  said  that  that  was  his  idea  exactly, 
but  it  wasn't,  as  we  shall  presently  see.  He  was  in 
no  humor  to  listen  to  any  further  suggestions  from 
the  haughty  Colonel  St.  Clair,  so  he  S2)urred  his  lazy 
old  mule  into  a  lope,  and  went  on  up  the  lane. 


CATCHING  A  TARTAR.  59 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CATCHING     A     TARTAR. 

His  recent  interview  with  Ike  Bishop,  taken  in 
connection  with  Colonel  St.  Clair's  rei^roachful 
words,  had  put  the  very  mischief  into  Captain  Ry- 
der's head,  and  aroused  him  to  a  full  sense  of  the 
responsibility  that  rested  upon  him.  Taken  in  a 
lump,  he  and  his  guerrilla  band  were  the  biggest  lot 
of  cowards  that  could  have  been  gathered  together 
in  any  country. 

Although  they  had  been  in  the  service  more  than 
two  years,  thej  had  never  faced  an  armed  enemy. 
They  all  lived  at  home,  but  they  would  become  rest- 
less now  and  then,  and  saddle  up,  and  start  off 
through  the  country,  as  if  they  had  made  up  their 
minds  to  do  something. 

And  what  a  motley  crew  they  were  when  they  all 
got  together,  mounted  on  their  scraggy  mules  and 
yew  necked,  sway  backed  horses,  no  two  of  them 
dressed  alike,  exce^Dt  in  the  matter  of  buttons,  and 
every  one  armed  to  suit  his  own  fancy.  They  looked 
hard  enough  when  they  set  out  on  their  raid,  but 
they  did  not  look  so  when  they  came  back.  They 
were  better  mounted  and  better  clothed,  and  not  in- 
frequently they  brought  a  small  but  heavily  loaded 
wagon  train  with  them;  and  for  a  time  their  families 
had  more  than  they  could  eat. 

Ryder  did  not  have  time  to  get  his  company  to- 
gether that  day;  but  bright  and   early  the   next 


CO  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

morning  they  were  all  on  hand  and  ready  for  busi* 
ness. 

"  Look  wild  thar,  you  uns  !"  shouted  Cajotain  Ry- 
der, as  he  dug  the  spurs  into  his  mule,  and  rode 
along  in  front  of  his  company  of  braves,  who  had  as- 
sembled in  obedience  to  his  orders  of  the  previous 
day. 

This  command  was  meant  for  "Attention,  com- 
pany!"  but  his  men  did  not  pay  the  slightest  heed 
to  it.  They  had  made  an  awkward  atteiii2)t  to  fall  in 
in  double  rank,  but  they  did  not  know  enough  to 
"right  dress,"  and  the  line  was  as  crooked  as  a  rail 
fence. 

Very  fierce  and  warlike  looked  the  guerrilla  chief- 
tain, as  he  paraded  before  the  daring  sj^irits  whom 
he  had  called  together  to  raid  the  houses  of  the  ob- 
noxious Union  men  who  had  to  be  conscripted  before 
they  would  go  into  the  army  to  fight  for  the  South. 
His  slouch  hat  Avas  turned  up  on  one  side,  and  fas- 
tened with  a  regulation  Confederate  plume,  and  in 
his  hand  he  held  a  rusty  saber,  instead  of  the  heavy 
bear  killer  he  usually  carried  on  his  raids. 

No  doubt  he  would  have  looked  like  a  model 
rough  rider  had  it  not  been  for  the  unpatriotic 
spirit  that  animated  the  mule  he  bestrode.  That 
much  abused  and  long  suffering  animal  paid,  as 
])lainly  as  a  mule  could  say  anything,  that  he  had 
had  about  enough  of  this  soldier  business.  He 
kept  his  back  arched,  like  the  segment  of  a  circle, 
moved  with  short,  uncertain  jumps,  and  came  down 
stiff  legged,  as  if  he  had  half  a  mind  to  "  buck." 
There  was  a  look  of  resignation  and  sorrow  in  his 
meek,  brown  eyen,  but  he  was  only  awaiting  a  favor- 
able opportunity  to  send  his  rider  sprawling  in  the 
dust. 

For  a  wonder,  there  was  no  laughing  or  joking 
among  the   guerrillas,  but  there  was  a  good  deal  of 


CATCHING  A  TARTAB.  61 

finppressed  excitement  among  them.  They  were 
about  ^o  undertake  a  very  disagreeable  as  well  as  a 
daiif^-erous  piece  of  work. 

"  We  uns  will  have  to  look  out  for  ourselves  from 
this  time  on,"  remarked  Pete  Williams,  throwing 
one  leg  over  the  horn  of  his  saddle,  and  knocking 
the  ashes  from  his  pipe  by  tapping  the  bowl  against 
the  heel  of  his  boot.  "  I  wish  Kurnel  St.  Clair  had 
sta^'ed  with  the  army  up  in  Tennessee  'stead  of 
comin'  hum  an'  puttin'  idees  like  this'n'  into  the 
head  of  Cap'n  Eyder.  He  wants  to  shovv^  off  before 
the  kuru,  Ryder  does,  an'  that's  wliat  he's  doin'  this 
for.  J'li  bet  you  that  some  of  us  won't  have  no 
houses  to  sleep  in  before  another  week  has  passed 
over  our  heads.  The  settlement'll  look  as  thouo-h 
the  Yanks  had  been  through  here.  I  say,  let  the 
houses  alone,  an'  look  for  the  mone}^  in  the  swamj), 
whar  it  is  hid;  an'  that's  what  Eyder  himself  always 
said  till  Ike  Bishop  an'  St.  Clair  got  after  him  yes- 
terdav." 

*'  Ha  yoop !"  shouted  Captain  Eyder,  flourisliing 
his  sword  in  the  air.  "  Look  wild  thar  !  Come  up 
in  the  middle  thar,  you  uns  who  have  got  so  fur  be- 
hind the " 

What  else  the  chieftain  was  about  to  say  the  com- 
pany did  not  know.  When  that  wild  Indian  yell 
rang  in  his  ears  the  mule  thought  that  the  moment 
for  which  he  was  waiting  had  arrived,  and  he  im- 
proved it  by  putting  his  head  between  his  forelegs 
and  sending  both  his  hind  ones  straight  into  the 
air.  The  result  was  that  the  captain  was  sent  head- 
long to  the  ground. 

Paying  no  heed  to  the  jeers  and  laughter  of  his 
men,  he  raised  himself  to  a  sitting  posture,  wiped 
the  dust  from  his  mouth,  and  said,  sadly: 

"  That's  what  makes  me  'sj^ise  a  mule." 

One  would  think  that  he  would  have  fallen  upon 


fi2  LUKU  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

the  offending  beast  Avitli  tlie  flat  of  Ins  saber,  and 
given  him  a  severe  pounding;  but  Ivyder  did  noth- 
ing of  the  kind.  AVithout  the  least  exhibition  of 
anger  he  got  upon  his  feet,  laid  hold  of  the  bridle 
(the  mule  did  not  stir  from  his  tracks  after  perform- 
ing this  exploit),  and  went  on  with  his  speech  as  if 
nothing  had  haj^pened. 

"  Now,  you  uns,  quit  your  laughin',  an'  i^ay  some 
heed  to  what  I'm  tellin'  you,"  said  he.  "We're  goin' 
to  hunt  for  the  money  that  them  conscripted  Union 
fellers  has  got  hid  away  somewhars,  an'  we're  goin' 
to  have  it  afore  we  quit  lookiu'.  You  hear  me  ? 
Some  of  you  uns  is  mighty  skeary  that  Luke'U  como 
outen  the  sw^amp  when  he  hears  of  it,  an'  go  to 
shootin'  an'  burnin'.  Ain't  that  a  game  we  uns  can 
play  at  well  as  he  can?  We'll  leave  the  houses  whar 
we  find  'em  this  time;  but  if  Luke  comes  from  his 
hide  out  an'  begins  a  pesterin'  of  us,  we  uns  will 
turn  to  and  burn  the  last  one  of  'em.  We  can  tell 
him  that." 

*'  It's  a  good  idee,  too,"  observed  one  of  the  men. 
"  Why  don't  they  divide  their  gold  with  them  that 
needs  it  ?  We  uns  think  jest  as  much  of  our  women 
folks  an'  young  ones  as  they  do,  if  we  are  poor;  an' 
we  don't  like  to  see  'em  go  hungry  any  better  than 
they  would." 

"  Perzackly,"  assented  the  caj^tain.  "  That's  good 
reasonin',  Sam'l,  an'  nobody  can't  dispute  it.  JBar- 
ron's  house  is  the  first  one  we  shall  come  to,  an' 
w^hen  we  "get  in  sight  of  it,  we'll  make  a  charge  an' 
surround  it,  so't  none  of  the  folks  can't  run  out  an' 
warn  the  rest.  Then  some  of  us  will  go  in  an'  ask 
for  the  money.  Crowd  up  together,  four  in  a  line, 
an'  go  endways,  like  I  told  you,  an'  when  you  get 
down  to  them  houses,  show  yourselves  to  be  the 
men  I  take  you  for." 

These  words  were  all  that  was  necessary  to  excite 


CATCHING  A  TARTAB.  6^ 

the  guerrillas  almost  to  frenzy.  They  had  little  or 
notliiug  to  lose  and  everything  to  make,  and  this  is 
the  sort  of  men  that  the  police  and  military  have  to 
meet  when  they  are  called  on  to  fight  a  mob.  "With 
alacrity  they  obeyed  the  cajDtain's  order  to  "  crowd 
up  together  and  go  endways  down  the  lane." 

For  a  while  they  rode  along  in  an  orderly  man- 
ner; but  when  they  came  within  sight  of  the  house, 
to  whose  defenseless  inmates  they  intended  to  j)ay 
their  respects,  they  put  their  animals  into  a  gallop 
and  went  tearing  uj)  the  broad  avenue  like  a  horde 
of  savages.  Dividing  right  and  left  in  front  of  the 
door,  they  came  together  in  the  rear,  and  thus  the 
house  was  surrounded,  and  its  occupants  made  cap- 
tive for  the  time  being. 

Having  seen  his  men  posted  to  his  satisfaction, 
Ryder  and  about  a  dozen  others  who  were  as  mean 
as  he  was,  got  off  their  horses,  and  walked  up  to  the 
door,  where  they  were  met  by  Frank  Barron's  moth- 
er, who  faced  them  with  the  utmost  composure.  It 
takes  something  besides  a  plume  and  a  cavalry 
saber  to  strike  terror  to  the  heart  of  a  Southern 
woman. 


64  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    GUERKILLAS    IN    ACTION. 

"  To  what  am  I  indebted  for  the  honor  of  this 
visit  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Barron,  after  she  had  waited  a 
full  minute  for  Captain  R^'der  to  make  known  his 
wants. 

The  fierce  frown  faded  instantly  from  the  face  of 
the  guerrilla  chief,  for  there  was  something  in  the 
little  woman's  look  and  hearing  that  took  all  the 
courage  out  of  him.  He  could  not  forget  that  she 
had  fed  him  when  he  was  hungiy,  and  given  him 
medicine  that  broke  up  his  wife's  chills  and  fever; 
and  if  he  had  been  alone  it  is  probable  that  he 
would  have  offered  some  excuse  for  his  intrusion 
and  beaten  a  hasty  retreat;  but  the  eyes  of  his  men 
were  upon  him,  and  it  was  as  much  as  his  position 
was  worth  to  back  out  now. 

More  than  that,  if  he  did  not  find  the  money  he 
had  come  there  after,  and  of  which  he  and  the  mem- 
bers of  his  company  stood  so  much  in  need,  the  un- 
scrupulous Colonel  St.  Clair  would  take  i:)Ossession 
of  it,  and  he  had  more  than  his  share  alread3\ 
Witli  this  reflection  to  spur  him  on,  Captain  Eyder 
recalled  the  frown  to  his  face,  and  said,  with  a  des- 
perate attempt  to  appear  at  his  ease: 

"  We  uns  have  come  here  to  tell  you  that  we  want 
the  money  you've  got.  If  you  will  liand  it  out  2)eace- 
able,  well  an'  good;  if  you  won't " 

♦'  You  and  your  men  will  search  my  house,"  said 


THE  GUEERILLAS  IN  ACTION.  65 

Mrs.  Barron,  putting  her  hand  into  her  pocket. 
*'  Well,  I  will  save  you  that  trouble.  I  believe  now 
that  there  is  some  truth  in  the  reports  that  I  have 
heard  regarding  the  way  you  conduct  yourselves 
when  you  go  off  on  your  raids." 

"We  uns  don't  know  what  you  have  beared;  an* 
what's  more,  we  don't  care,"  shouted  Kyder's  lieu- 
tenant, the  man  who  was  the  most  to  blame  for  all 
the  outrages  that  were  committed  by  the  band  dur- 
ing their  absence  from  the  settlement.  "But  we 
uns  can  tell  you  this,  Miss  Barron:  when  your  ole 
man  cums  home  from  the  trenches,  if  he  ever  does, 
he  won't  find  no  house  to  creep  into,  if  you  don't 
trot  out  that  thar  money  without  no  more  foolin'," 
said  the  lieutenant,  turning  to  his  men,  from  whom 
he  received  man}^  winks  and  nods  of  encouragement. 
"  Tell  him  that  the  next  time  you  write  to  him." 

"  If  I  do,  it  will  be  no  news  to  him,"  was  Mrs. 
Barron's  quiet  rejoinder.  "Knowing  the  character 
of  some  of  the  people  who  live  in  this  settlement, 
my  husband  does  not  expect  to  find  his  home  stand- 
ing when  he  returns." 

"  He  won't  be  disapp'inted,  I  bet  you,"  chimed  in 
Captain  Kyder.  He  saw  the  winks  and  nods,  as 
well  as  the  beaming  looks  of  admiration  that  his 
men  bestowed  upon  the  lieutenant,  and  something 
told  him  that  if  he  wanted  to  retain  command  of  the 
company,  he  must  wake  up  and  perform  some  ex- 
ploit worthy  of  a  Confederate  rough  rider.  He  had 
seen  those  signs  of  approval  before,  and  he  began  to 
be  suspicious  that  his  first  officer  was  trying  to  oust 
him  from  the  captaincy  and  shove  himself  in.  "  He 
won't  be  disap23'inted,  I  bet  you,"  repeated  Ryder, 
turning  to  the  guerrillas  with  an  air  which  seemed 
to  say  that  no  Union  man,  or  woman,  either,  could 
triile  with  him.  "  An'  thar's  that  boy  of  your'n,  an* 
the   tellers   that's   with  him!     Why   don't   they  all 


66  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIBE  OUT. 

come  out  an'  fight,  like  they  had  oughter  do,  'stead 
of  hidin'  themselves  away  in  the  swamp,  like  so 
many  cowards  ?  If  you  uns  don't  give  up  that  thar 
money,  we  uns  will  hang  the  last  one  of  them  boys 
for  traitors." 

"  Frank's  course  has  my  hearty  approval,  for  he  is 
doing  just  what  his  father  told  him  to  do,"  replied 
the  bravo  woman,  without  the  slightest  tremor  in 
her  voice.  "  I  have  no  fears  for  his  safety;  but  I 
sliall  fear  for  yours,  if  you  attempt  to  carry  your 
threat  into  execution.  But  there  is  no  need  of  any 
more  bluster.  There  is  every  cent  of  money  there  is 
in  the  house." 

As  Mrs.  Barron  spoke,  she  took  her  hand  out  of 
her  pocket,  and  placed  in  the  captain's  outstretched 
palm  twenty  dollars  in  Confederate  bills.  The 
whole  roll  would  not  have  purchased  as  much  bacon 
and  flour  at  any  store  in  Mississippi  as  a  five  dollar 
greenback. 

"  'Tain't  that  sort  of  stuff  we  uns  want,"  shouted 
the  lieutenant.  "  It's  the  Yankee  gold  that  we're 
after.  "Whar  is  is  it  ?  I  ask  you  that  for  the  last 
time." 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  that  is  every  cent 
there  is  in  the  house,  and  I  have  no  more  to  sa}'," 
answered  Mrs.  Barron,  who  knew  very  well  what 
the  excited  and  angry  ofiicer's  next  order  would  be. 

"Hey  yoop  1"  yelled  the  lieutenant.  "It's  jes'  as 
T  expected,  boys.     Now  turn  to  an' " 

"  Hold  you  yawj)  I"  sternly  comnitinded  Captain 
Ryder.  "  Do  you  w^ant  to  alarm  Ramsay's  women 
folks  so't  they  can  run  off  the  gold  afore  we  uns  get 
thar?" 

"  Hold  your  jaw  yourself,  Amos  Ryder,"  retorted 
the  insubordinate  lieutentant.  "  You  ain't  fitten  for 
work  of  this  kind,  an' we  uns  have  had  about  enough 
of  you.     I  can  tell  you  that.     Now  turn  to  an'  pull 


THE  GUEREILLAS  IN  ACTION.  67 

up  everything,  boj-s.  The  shanty  is  your'n  to  do 
what  you  please  with  it.  Look  under  the  floors,  an' 
into  the  beds  an'  cupboards,  an' " 

The  guerrillas,  who  were  like  so  many  blood- 
hounds held  in  the  leash,  waited  to  hear  no  more. 
With  a  wild  yell,  that  was  taken  up  and  repeated 
by  their  comrades  outside,  they  entered  upon  their 
work  of  destruction,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes 
me  to  write  it,  every  room  in  the  house  was  in  the 
greatest  confusion. 

After  they  had  wrecked  the  house  and  found  noth- 
ing, the  guerrillas,  headed  by  Captain  E-yder,  ran 
out  into  the  yard  to  see  what  they  could  find  there. 
The  captain  tried  to  be  everywhere  at  once,  for  he 
was  afraid  that  if  his  mutinous  lieutenant  discovered 
the  hiding  place  of  the  money,  the  men  would  want 
to  reward  him  by  making  him  commander  of  the 
company. 

Every  nook  and  corner  of  the  cellar,  smokehouse, 
corncribs  and  negro  cabins  were  overhauled,  and 
flower  beds  were  sounded  with  iron  ramrods.  AVhen- 
ever  there  was  a  soft  sx)ot  found  in  them,  there  was 
a  loud  call  for  spades;  and  by  the  time  the  guerril- 
las grew  tired,  and  began  to  show  signs  of  giving  it 
up  as  a  bad  job,  the  doorj^ard  looked  as  though  a 
squad  of  men  had  been  at  work  throwing  ap  rifle 
pits. 

"  'Tain't  no  use  wastin'  more  time  hyar,  boys," 
shouted  the  captain  at  last.  "  Git  onto  your  crit- 
ters, an'  we'll  go  down  an'  try  t'other  places.  Sorry 
to  have  been  the  kase  of  so  much  bother  to  you  uns. 
Miss  Barron,  but  you  see  what  you  git  by  not  trot- 
tin'  out  that  money  when  I  told  you." 

Frank's  mother,  who  had  stood  quietly  by  and 
witnessed  tlie  wanton  destruction  of  her  pro23erty 
without  uttering  a  single  word  of  remonstrance,  had 
nothing  to  say  in  reply.     AVhen  the  guerrillas  had 


68  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

mounted  and  ridden  away  out  of  sight,  she  turned 
to  the  weeping  "  mammy,"  who  acted  as  housekeep- 
er, and  who  had  kept  close  to  her  side  as  if  she 
feared  that  some  indignity  might  be  offered  her  be- 
loved mistress. 

"  Martha,"  said  she,  "  it  isn't  w-orth  while  to  fret 
about  things  we  can't  help.  Get  some  of  our 
people  together,  and  straighten  up  as  well  as  you 
can." 

"  AYhat  for  dey  wan'  come  hyar  an'  do  dis  ?"  sob- 
bed Aunt  Martha.  *'  "We  uns  never  pestered  dem 
no  fashion,  an'  what  for  dey  can't  luf  us  be?  If 
young  Moss'  Frank  don't  shoot  dat  rebbel  de  fus' 
ting  he  do,  his  ole  mammy'll  bo  powerful  sorry  dat 
she  tuk  such  mighty  good  care  of  him  when  he  was 
a  babby — she  will  so." 

Mrs.  Barron  turned  away  without  making  any  an- 
swer. That  was  just  what  she  was  afraid  Frank 
would  do  when  he  heard  of  it.  She  had  kept  up  a 
brave  trout  during  a  terrible  ordeal,  but  now,  wom- 
an like,  she  locked  herself  in  her  room  and  had  a 
good  cry  over  it. 

During  the  next  few  hour  these  things  were  acted 
over  again  in  the  houses  of  four  other  Union  men  in 
the  settlement,  and  when  the  sun  went  down,  Ry- 
der's enraged  and  disappointed  men  slowly  wended 
their  way  homeward.  They  had  incurred  the  enmity 
of  some  of  the  most  determined  men  and  boys  in 
the  State,  and  the}'  had  made  just  a  hundred  and 
twenty  five  dollars  in  Confederate  money  by  it.  It 
was  a  poor  day's  work,  and  now  they  wished  tliey 
hadn't  done  it 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PICKETS.  69 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AN    INTERVIEW    ^\^Tn    THE    PICKETS. 

AVhen  Captain  Ryder  put  the  spurs  to  his  mule 
and  galloped  away  from  Ike  Bishop's  gate,  a  wagon 
drove  up,  bringing  a  supply  of  provisions  and 
blankets  for  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  his  hunting  party. 
As  soon  as  Ike  had  secured  his  gun  and  a  few  neces- 
sary articles  which  his  mother  had  provided  for 
him,  he  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  squad,  and 
led  it  through  an  old  cotton  field,  and  into  a  narrow 
strip  of  woods  that  bordered  upon  the  swamp. 

There  they  found  the  four  canoes  that  Ike  had 
been  instructed  to  have  in  readiness  on  this  partic- 
ular morning.  Without  any  unnecessary  delay  they 
put  in  their  luggage,  and  shoved  away  from  the 
shore. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  Colonel  St.  Clair,  the  acknowl- 
edged leader  of  the  expedition,  addressing  himself 
to  Ike  Bishop,  who  had  been  brought  along  to  act 
as  guide,  pack  horse,  and  man-of-al]-work,  "  strike 
as  straight  a  course  as  you  can  for  Rolling  Fork. 
If  we  find  that  our  friends  there  would  be  glad  of 
our  help,  we  will  stay  and  give  it  to  them;  but  if 
they  can  get  along  without  us,  we'll  come  back  and 
hunt  bears." 

Ike  was  by  no  means  so  knowing  and  talkative  in 
the  presence  of  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  his  friends  as 
he  had  shown  himself  to  be  during  his  interview 
with  Captain  Ryder.     For  four  long  hours  he  pad- 


70  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

died  straig-ht  ahead,  without  once  offering  a  remark, 
whih)  the  eolouel  and  his  companions  had  a  good 
deal  to  say  to  one  another.  The}'  talked  about 
bears  and  nothing  else,  as  they  did  that  night  when 
Ned  Marsh  stumbled  upon  their  camp,  and  no  one 
would  have  su[)posed  that  tliey  had  any  other  game 
in  view;  but  Ike  knew  all  about  it,  for  the  real  ob- 
ject of  the  expedition  had  been  fully  exjjlained  to 
him. 

"This  here  thing  is  a  goin' to  be  the  makin' of 
me,"  soliloquized  Ike,  who  saw  more  pleasure  in 
communing  witli  his  own  tlioughls  than  he  would 
have  found  by  taking  part  in  the  conversation.  "I 
wish  I  knowed  jcnt  lunv  much  Luke  Bennett  an'  the 
rest  of  them  fellers  have  got  the  handlin'  of,  so't  I 
could  make  a  few  kalkerlations.  It's  a  power  of 
money  anyhow,  an'  the  kuru  says  my  sljar'  of  it  will 
make  me  rich.  I'll  give  a  thousand  dollars  of  it  to 
mam — that'll  be  enough  to  keep  her  in  grub  an'  clo'es 
till  we  uns  get  the  Yanks  whop})ed  and  drove  outen 
the  country — an'  I'll  take  the  rest  up  to  Tennessee 
with  mo.  It's  the  rich  fellers  that  gets  the  stars 
onto  their  collars — the  poor  ones  all  have  to  stay  in 
the  ranks,  and  that  is  what  makes  'em  call  it  a  rich 
man's  war  and  a  i)oor  man's  fight — an'  who  knows 
but  when  General  Bragg  finds  out  that  I  have  got 
money,  he'll  give  me  a  star  or  sumlhin'  to  put  onto 
my  collar?  Then  I'll  be  as  big  a  man  as  any  of  'em, 
won't  I?  Kurnel  Bishop!  Hey  yoop !  ]3ut  afore 
I  let  that  thar  LukeB(!iinett  go,  I'm  a  goin' to  punch 
his  head  to  pay  him  for  that  wh()p2)in'  lie  give  me,  I 
bet  you,"  said  Ike,  carefully  passing  his  fingers  over 
his  nose  to  see  if  the  lump  tliat  had  been  raised 
there  by  the  young  Unionist's  hard  list  had  gone 
away  yet.  "  I  ain't  forgot  that,  an'  I  won't  nuther, 
as  long  as  I  stay  on  top  the  ground." 

All  on  a  sudden  Ike  ceased  his  exertions   at  the 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PICKETS.  71 

paddle,  and  after  listening  a  moment,  raised  the  im- 
plement aloft,  to  draw  the  attention  of  his  com- 
panions. The  talking  was  instantly  hushed,  and  the 
three  rear  canoes  were  pushed  up  alongside  his  own. 

"  I  couldn't  have  tooken  you  uns  any  straighter  to 
whar  them  gunboats  be  that  we're  goin'  to  captur', 
if  I  had  been  hyar  a  hundred  times  afore,"  said  Ike, 
in  resj^onse  to  the  colonel's  inquiring  glances.  "I 
beared  shootin'  jest  now,  an'  that  tells  me  that  we're 
clost  onto  Rollin'  Fork." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then  a  defiant 
roar  rang  through  the  swamp  with  startling  distinct- 
ness. Some  irate  gunboat  commander,  who  was 
getting  tired  of  being  tormented  by  the  sharp- 
shooters, had  sent  a  load  of  canister  or  a  stand  of 
grape  among  them,  in  the  hope  of  compelling  them 
to  keep  still  for  a  while. 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  be  quite  safe  to  go  any 
further  in  this  direction,"  observed  the  colonel. 
''  As  we  want  to  get  among  our  friends  and  see  what 
they  are  doing,  perhaps  we  had  better  drop  down  a 
mile  or  two,  and  cross  the  baj^ou  below  the  fleet." 

The  others  agreeing  to  this  proposal,  the  guide,  in 
obedience  to  a  wave  of  the  colonel's  hand,  turned 
and  followed  a  course  that  lay  almost  at  right  angles 
with  the  one  he  had  been  pursuing.  The  incessant 
fire  of  musketry  kept  up  by  the  sharpshooters  grew 
more  and  more  indistinct,  and  when  it  died  away  in 
the  distance,  Ike,  believing  that  they  had  got  below 
the  fleet,  called  another  halt,  and  volunteered  to  go 
ahead  alone,  and  see  if  the  way  was  clear. 

He  was  gone  about  half  an  hour,  and  returned 
with  the  gratifying  news  that  there  was  not  a  single 
vessel,  either  gunboat  or  transport,  to  be  seen  in  the 
bayou,  and  there  was  nothing  to  prevent  them  from 
crossing  over  the  ridge  to  see  how  their  friends  were 
getting  on.    This  they  did  in  safety;  but  no  sooner 


72  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

had  tliey  pushed  their  canoes  through  the  ^bushes 
that  lined  the  base  of  the  ridge,  and  run  their  bows 
upon  the  shore,  than  they  were  surrounded  by  a 
squad  of  rebel  pickets. 

"  Hello,  here  !  "  exclaimed  the  officer  in  command, 
with  a  ring  of  triumph  in  his  tones.  "This  is  once 
that  the  game  didn't  work,  ain't  it?  Where  did  you 
drop  dowm  from,  and  what  are  you  doing  on  the 
wrong  side  of  the  ridge  ?  " 

"  We  dropped  down  from  Bragg's  army,"  answered 
the  colonel,  who  knew  that  the  officer  took  him  and 
his  party  for  deserters  from  Vicksburg,  "and  we 
landed  on  this  side  of  the  levee,  because  we  have 
just  come  from  home.  We  live  a  few  miles  back  in 
the  country,  and  have  come  home  on  a  thirty  days' 
furlough." 

"  Of  course  you  have  brought  your  papers  with 
you?"  said  the  officer,  in  a  little  milder  tones.'  "  You 
see,"  he  added,  as  the  colonel  jDroduced  a  printed 
document  and  passed  it  over  for  his  inspection,  "  we 
are  losing  a  good  many  men  by  desertion  just  now, 
and  w^henever  we  find  a  soldier  outside  the  lines,  we 
want  to  know  how  he  got  there." 

"No  apologies  are  necessary,  captain,"  replied  the 
coloneL  "  I  hope  I  am  too  good  a  soldier  to  find 
fault  with  an  officer  for  doing  his  duty.  My  com- 
panions are  all  right." 

"  That  assurance  is  quite  sufficient,  and  I  don't  care 
to  see  their  papers,"  said  the  captain.  "  You  heard  the 
firing  and  came  over  to  see  what  we  are  doing,  I  sup- 
ppose?"  he  continued.  "Well,  we're  not  doing 
much,  although  we've  got  the  fleet  cut  up  into  three 
sections.  The  four  gunboats  in  the  lead  cannot  go 
any  farther,  because  we  have  cut  trees  across  the 
bayou  and  stopped  their  progress.  About  tw^o  miles 
lower  down  lies  the  Decatur,  which  can't  do  anything 
on  account  of  our  sharpshooters;  and  about  fifteen 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PICKETS.  73 

miles  still  lower  down,  are  a  lot  of  transjDorts,  with 
General  Sherman  and  a  division  of  soldiers  on  board. 
We  have  kept  the  bayou  closely  guarded  day  and 
night,  to  f)i'event  all  communication  between  these 
different  boats,  but  I  don't  suppose  we  have 
succeeded  in  doing  that.  We  are  looking  for  the 
soldiers  every  hour,  and  when  they  come,  we  shall 
have  to  dig  out." 

"  Then  you  don't  expect  to  capture  the  gunboats  ?" 
said  the  colonel,  in  a  disapj^oiuted  tone. 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  the  officer  with  a  laugh.  "All 
we  can  do  is  to  bother  them  so  that  they  can't 
force  their  way  into  Sunflower,  and  from  there  into 
the  Yazoo,  and  come  up  on  the  rear  of  Haines' 
Bluff." 

Colonel  St.  Clair  thanked  the  caj^tain  for  the  in- 
formation he  had  given,  got  into  his  canoe,  and 
shoved  off  toward  the  bayou. 

With  the  excejotion  of  the  events  already  men- 
tioned, nothing  happened  to  Colonel  St.  Clair  and 
his  hunting  party  during  the  day  that  is  worthy  of 
record.  As  they  did  not  know  w^here  to  look  to  find 
Luke  Bennett's  hide  out,  the  only  thing  they  could 
do  was  to  paddle  about  through  the  swamp,  pushing 
their  canoes  into  every  thicket  of  bushes  and  clump 
of  cane  which  looked  as  though  it  might  conceal  a 
spot  of  dry  ground. 

Of  course  if  this  plan  could  be  followed  long 
enough,  it  was  bound  to  be  successful  sooner  or 
later;  but  that  was  right  where  the  trouble  was.  At 
least  a  Aveek  of  their  thirty  days'  leave  had  already 
expired;  it  would  take  them  another  week  to  go 
back  to  Tennessee,  owdng  to  the  uncertainty  of  mak- 
ing connections  along  the  route,  and  it  was  a  ques- 
tion whether  or  not  they  could  go  all  over  that  big 
swamp,  and  peep  into  every  nook  and  corner  in  it, 
during   the   sixteen   days  that  remained  to   them. 


74  LUIvE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

Their  time  was  short;  but  we  shall  j)resenth'  see  that 
it  was  quite  long  enough  for  them  to  put  Luke  and 
his  friends  to  a  good  deal  of  trouble. 

The  only  dry  ground  they  found  during  their 
wanderings  was  the  little  spot  on  which  they  made 
their  camp  that  night.  AVhen  the  hound  awoke 
them  with  his  baying,  and  they  got  up  and  mended 
the  lire  and  smoked  their  pipes,  they  distinctly  saw 
Ned  Marsh's  canoe,  but  as  Ned  kept  himself  out  of 
sight  behind  the  tree  he  was  hugging,  they  supposed 
it  was  a  log  that  had  caught  there,  and  did  not 
take  a  second  look  at  it. 

They  made  an  early  start  the  next  morning,  and,  if 
they  had  been  a  little  more  cautious  in  their  move- 
ments, might  have  succeeded  in  taking  a  couple  of 
prisoners;  but  believing  they  were  alone  in  the 
swamj:*,  they  made  no  effort  to  hide  their  approach 
from  the  sharp  eyes  of  old  Uncle  Sam,  who,  in  com- 
pany with  Ned  Marsh,  made  good  his  escape,  in 
spite  of  the  shower  of  bullets  and  buckshot  that 
were  sent  after  him. 

"That  nigger  bears  a  charmed  life,"  exclaimed 
the  colonel,  who  had  laid  himself  flat  on  the  bottom 
of  his  canoe  and  taken  a  dead  rest  at  Sam  over  the 
bow.  "If  we  only  knew  as  much  as  he  does,  we 
wouldn't  be  long  in  finding  Luke  and  his  gang." 

"  How  long  do  you  think  we  would  be  in  getting 
our  hands  on  them  ? "  inquired  Captain  Grilfin. 
"Our  only  chance  of  success  lies  in  a  sur2:>rise.  We 
can't  take  them  by  assault,  for  they  are  all  good 
shots,  and  as  plucky  as  they  make  them.  We 
couldn't  surround  them  and  starve  them  out,  for 
Luke  Bennett  wouldn't  allow  himself  to  be  shut  up 
in  a  stronghold  without  grub  enough  to  stand  a 
siege." 

"  Let's  find  them  first,  and  talk  over  other  matters 
afterward,"  replied  the  colonel.     "  Take  after  Sam, 


AN  INTEKVIEW  WITH  THE  PICKETS.  75 

all  of  us,  and  bang  away  at  him  every  chance  we 
get.  I  wonder  where  in  the  world  he  picked  up 
that  Yank  ?  " 

"  He  can't  be  anything  but  a  bearer  of  dispatches 
who  has  lost  his  way,"  said  the  captain,  confidently. 
"He's  a  gunboat  officer;  he's  got  too  much  gold  lace 
about  his  clothes  for  a  soldier.  If  we  can't  capture 
him,  we  can  at  least  hang  around  the  bayou,  be- 
tween here  and  the  transports,  and  keej)  him  from 
delivering  his  dispatches-  That  will  be  a  little  ac- 
complished for  the  cause." 

All  this  while  the  colonel  and  his  party  were  mak- 
ing the  most  strenous  exertions  to  keej)  Sam  in 
sight;  but  the  old  negro,  handling  his  paddle  with 
wonderful  strength  and  skill,  proved  himself  to  be 
an  ade]3t  at  dodging,  and  when  the  pursuers  came 
to  the  place  where  he  was,  he  wasn't  there.  He  and 
Ned  Marsh  were  safely  hidden  in  the  cane;  and 
though  the  hunting  j)arty  searched  long  and  care- 
fully, they  could  not  find  the  slightest  trace  of  them. 

"  Captain  Ryder  calls  himself  the  Swamp  Fox," 
said  the  colonel,  pulling  out  his  handkerchief,  and 
wiping  the  big  drops  of  perspiration  from  his  fore- 
head. "  I  think  tliat  would  be  a  more  ai)25ro23riate 
name  for  old  Sam  to  bear.  Hie's  got  the  best  right 
to  it,  for  I  never  saw  anybody  quite  so  cunning  as 
he  has  shown  himself  to  be  this  morning.  Gentle- 
men,"  added  the  colonel,  with  a  strong  accent  on  the 
last  syllable,  "an  idea  strikes  me.  The  only  way  to 
gobble  Luke  Bennett  and  his  friends,  is  to  make  a 
prisoner  of  Sam,  and  send  him  over  to  Vicksburg. 
Then  how  will  those  boys  get  supplies,  unless  they 
leave  their  hide  out  and  go  home  after  them  ?  " 

"  That's  the  idea,"  exclaimed  Captain  Griffin.  "  It 
is  one  of  the  rules  of  war  to  threaten  the  enemy's 
communications,  if  you  can't  get  at  the  enemy  him- 
self.    If  we  can  get  Sam  out  of  the  way,  and  induce 


76  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

Ryder  to  help  us,  we  can  gobble  every  one  of  those 
refugees  by  simply  watching  their  homes  at  night. 
It's  the  only  way  we  ever  will  catch  them,  too." 

"And  when  they  lose  Sam,  they  will  lose  their 
dispatch  bearer,"  observed  one  of  the  other  men. 
"It  is  through  him  that  the\'  keep  posted  in  every- 
thing that  goes  on  in  the  settlement,  and  I'll  bet 
that  he  has  got  a  letter  in  his  i^ocket  at  this  very 
minute  that  would  be  of  value  to  us  if  we  could  get 
hold  of  it.  I  say,  catch  Sam  with  as  little  delay  as 
possible." 

The  others  said  so  too,  and  from  that  hour  the  old 
negro  was  in  more  danger  than  he  had  ever  been 
in  before. 

The  colonel  and  his  party  never  suspected  that 
Tram})  was  also  a  bearer  of  dispatches,  and  that 
Luke  and  his  companions  visited  the  settlement  as 
often  as  they  felt  like  it,  in  spite  of  the  vigilance  of 
Captain  Ryder  and  his  band  of  guerrillas. 

They  found  it  out,  however.  When  they  went 
home  an  alarming  surprise  awaited  them. 


AN  ALARM  FROM  THE  SOUTH.  77 


CHAPTER    XII. 

AN  ALARM  FROM  THE  SOUTH. 

At  tlie  close  of  the  seventh  chapter  I  said  that 
Ned  Marsh  was  much  surprised  by  the  magical  way 
in  which  Luke  Bennett  disappeared  from  his  view. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  the  young  refugee  Avalked 
straight  into  the  side  of  the  hill  that  arose  behind 
the  camj)  fire  and  a  short  distance  from  it;  but 
when  a  bright  light  shot  out  of  the  darkness,  as 
Luke  struck  a  match  and  touched  it  to  a  si^uttering 
tallow  dip,  Ned  saw  that  what  he  had  taken  for  a  lit- 
tle rise  of  the  ground  was  in  reality  a  dense  thicket 
of  bushes,  the  interior  of  which  had  been  cut  away 
to  permit  the  erection  of  a  neat  and  commodious 
bark  shanty.  He  saw  Luke  seat  himself  at  a  table, 
and  draw  some  writing  materials  toward  him. 

A  few  minutes  later  Luke  came  out  of  the  cabin, 
holding  in  his  hand  a  letter,  which  he  had  wrapj)ed 
in  a  piece  of  oiled  silk.  "  Now,  Sam,  tie  this  around 
Tramp's  neck,  and  start  him  home  with  it.  Say, 
Duckfoot,  you've  got  to  stay  here  as  long  as  that 
hunting  party  is  loafing  about  in  the  swamp,  and  if 
mother  should  invite  you  to  call  upon  her  at  her 
house,  would  you  do  it?" 

Ned  promptly  replied  that  he  would,  little  dream- 
ing what  a  scrape  that  same  promise  was  destined 
to  get  him  into. 

"  Of  course  mother  wouldn't  think  of  asking  you 
to  come  out  of  your  place  of  concealment,  unless  she 


78  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

know  that  the  coast  was  clear,  and  that  you  would 
be  in  no  danger  from  the  guerrillas,"  continued 
Luke  Bennett,  holding  fast  to  the  impatient  Tramp, 
while  old  Sam  tied  the  letter  around  his  neck.  "We 
fellows  brought  you  here  to  take  care  of  you,  and 
not  to  get  you  into  trouble." 

"  So  I  supposed,"  said  Ked,  "  and  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  you,  I  should  probably  have  been  on  my  way  to 
Vicksburg  before  this  time.  Our  troops  will  be  in 
possession  of  this  whole  region  very  shortly,  and 
you  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  not  fail  to  give  your 
names  to  an  officer  who  will  look  out  for  you. 
How  long  do  you  think  it  will  be  before  I  can  go 
on  wdtli  my  dispatches  ?" 

"That's  a  conundrum,"  answered  Luke.  "We 
shall  be  rid  of  the  presence  of  this  hunting  paity  in 
less  than  a  week,  but  there  is  no  telling  how  much 
mischief  they  may  put  into  Amos  Kyder's  head  be- 
fore they  leave  the  country.  They  will  be  sure  to 
tell  him  that  they  have  seen  a  live  Yank  in  company 
with  old  Sam,  and  of  course  the  guerrillas  will  do 
their  best  to  capture  you.  It  would  be  a  feather  in 
their  caps,  if  they  could  take  you  over  to  Vicksburg. 
Is  the  letter  all  right,  Sam  ?  Then  take  him  ashore 
and  start  him  off  with  your  blessing.  When  j-ou 
come  back,  put  up  the  bars  to  keep  the  wolves  out 
of  the  fold." 

The  young  officer  wondered  what  the  real  mean- 
ing of  that  order  was;  but  he  made  no  remark, 
knowing  that  if  Luke  thouglit  it  best  to  enlighten 
him,  he  would  do  it  without  waiting  to  bo  question- 
ed. Tramp,  who  knew  just  what  was  expected  of 
liim,  jumped  into  the  canoe,  and  then  Sam  got  in 
and  shoved  off  into  the  cane. 

When  ho  was  out  of  sight,  Luke  made  a  sign  to 
Joo  Ramsay,  who  arose  from  his  seat,  and  the  two 
disappeared  in  the  cabin.     They  were  gone  live  min- 


AN  ALAKM  FEOM  THE  SOUTH.  79 

utes,  and  when  they  came  out  again,  Ned  saw  that 
they  had  armed  and  equipped  themselves  for  a  jour- 
ney. 

"  You  don't  intend  to  waste  any  time,  do  you  ?" 
said  Frank  Barron,  who  seemed  to  know  what  his 
companions  were  going  to  do. 

"  What's  the  use  ?"  asked  Luke,  in  reply.  *'  The 
letters  are  written,  and  if  they  are  delivered  tonight, 
they  may  be  the  means  of  saving  us  a  very  disagree- 
able piece  of  work.  Now,  Duckfoot,  we  will  leave 
you  to  the  tender  mercies  of  our  friends  until  we 
come  back." 

"  Why  don't  you  fellows  take  him  into  the  hide 
out  and  show  him  where  we  live  ?"  said  Joe.  "  Per- 
haps his  sleep  would  be  more  refreshing  if  we  sound 
the  alarm  as  we  go  out,  just  to  let  him  see  how  thor- 
oughly protected  we  are,  and  how  impossible  it 
would  be  for  that  hunting  party,  or  any  oiher  lot  of 
men,  to  take  us  by  surprise.  Don't  let  Sam  come 
after  us.  He  is  our  right  bower,  you  know,  and  we 
can't  afford  to  lose  him.     Good  by,  everybody." 

So  saying,  Joe  and  Luke  went  back  into  the  cabin, 
and  that  was  the  last  Ned  saw  of  them  that  night. 

"Now,  I'll  just  tell  you  what's  a  fact,"  said  a 
drawling  voice  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire.  It  came 
from  a  boy  who  had  not  spoken  before,  since  Ned 
came  in  the  camp. 

"  Hello,  there  !  Have  3'ou  waked  up  at  last  ?"  ex- 
claimed Frank.  "  It's  Sidney  Jones,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Ned.  "  He  is  well  up  in  his  Latin  and 
Greek,  but  he  doesn't  understand  English  very  well, 
and  for  that  reason  ho  does  not  often  take  part  in 
our  conversations;  but  when  he  condescends  to  talk 
so  that  we  can  comprehend  him,  he  generally  says 
something.     What  is  it,  Sid  ?" 

"  Talking  without  eating  is  hard  work,"  answered 
Sid. 


80  LUKE  BENNETT'S  JIIDE  OUT. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Duckfoot?"  exclaimed 
Frank.  "  Sid  always  sa^'s  something  when  he  talks 
in  English.  But  you  haven't  done  any  talking  to 
make  you  hungry." 

"  But  I  want  a  bite  to  eat,  all  the  same.  I  saw 
Sam  carry  two  buckets  into  the  cellar,  and  some- 
thing tells  me  that  there  is  sweet  milk  in  one  of 
them,  and  buttermilk  in  the  other.  I  think  we  had 
better  drink  some  of  that  milk,  in  order  to  saye  it." 

"I  know  there  are  lots  of  good  things  in  that 
bundle,  too,"  said  Tom  Pike.  "  But  Sam  will  be  sure 
to  jaw  if  we  meddle  watli  them  during  his  absence, 
so  we  will  wait  until  he  returns,  and  tell  him  to  get 
up  a  good  supper  for  us." 

The  others  were  strongly  in  fayor  of  this,  except 
Ned  Marsh.  The  two  light  meals  he  had  eaten  that 
day  served  to  sharpen  his  appetite,  rather  than  take 
the  edge  off  it,  and  he  was  as  hungry  as  a  wolf. 

While  he  wa*^.  telling  himself  that  he  wished  old 
Sam  would  hasten  his  coming,  he  w^as  startled  by 
the  quick,  sharp  stroke  of  an  invisible  gong,  followed 
by  the  violent  and  long  continued  ringing  of  a  bell. 

"  Hear  that?  "  queried  Frank. 

"  I  should  say  so,"  was  Ned's  reply.  "  Is  that  the 
alarm  that  Joe  spoke  of  just  as  he  was  going  away? 
Where  is  it?" 

"  Come  w4th  me  and  I  will  show  you,"  said  Frank, 
rising  from  his  scat. 

The  young  officer  followed  him,  and  presently  ob- 
tained his  first  view  of  the  interior  of  the  hide  out 
wiiicli,  ever  since  the  war  began,  had  afforded  those 
five  boys  a  snug  shelter,  and  a  retreat  so  secure  that 
not  a  single  one  of  their  enemies  had  been  able  to 
find  it. 

"And  I  assure  you  they  have  looked  for  it  early 
and  late,"  said  Tom  Pike,  who  had  followed  them  to 
the  door.     "They  are  looking  for  it  now,  and  will 


AN  ALARM  FROM  THE  SOUTH.  81 

keep  it  up  as  long  as  they  think  there  is  anything  to 
be  made  by  finding  it.'* 

"  But  it  will  be  a  sorry  day  for  the  successful 
party,"  observed  Sid,  who,  now  he  had  found  his 
tongue,  seemed  disj^osed  to  show  that  he  knew  how 
to  use  it.  "  It  is  simply  imjDOssible  for  a  stranger  to 
come  near  us  without  giving  us  warning  of  his  ajD- 
proach.  Look  here,"  he  continued,  placing  his  hand 
upon  a  sliding  panel  and  pushing  it  from  its  posi- 
tion, revealing  to  Ned's  view  a  small  box  containing 
two  bells  and  a  gong.  '-It's  an  invention  of  my 
own,  but  I  have  not  yet  applied  for  a  patent.  The 
Confederate  Government  wouldn't  give  it  to  me,  be- 
cause I  am  a  Union  man;  and  the  people  at  Wash- 
ington would  shake  their  heads  at  me,  for  the  reason 
that,  living  in  a  rebel  State  as  I  do,  they  would 
think  that  I  must  of  necessity  be  a  grayback  myself. 
So  I  shall  have  to  wait  until  this  little  quarrel  is  de- 
cided one  way  or  the  other." 

Ned  Marsh  was  greatly  interested  in  the  ingenious 
contrivance.  "How  does  this  work,  any  way?"  he 
asked. 

*'  I  shall  have  to  explain  it  to  you  the  best  I  can, 
because  I  can't  take  one  of  the  bells  down  without 
throwing  the  whole  business  out  of  gear,"  answered 
Sidney.  "  You  see,  each  one  of  these  bells  is 
fastened  to  a  strong  spring  which  is  wound  up  like 
a  clock;"  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  Sidney 
proceeded  to  wind  up  the  bell  that  had  just  been 
rung.  "  See  those  three  thick  wires  in  there  ?  They 
run  out  to  different  sides  of  our  island,  which  is  only 
about  a  hundred  feet  square.  I  know  it  looks  bigger, 
but  it's  on  account  of  the  bushes  and  cane  that  sur- 
round it.  The  thickets  of  which  I  speak  are  so  very 
dense  that  it  would  be  an  undertaking  of  some 
difficulty  for  a  boatman  to  work  his  way  through 
^em,  unless  he  happened  to  strike  the  narrow  pas- 


82  LUKli:  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

sage  that  we  generally  use  in  going  back  and  forth; 
but  for  fear  that  some  one  may  attempt  it,  these 
thick  wires,  when  they  reach  the  water,  have  other 
wires  made  fast  to  them,  which  branch  away  in 
every  direction." 

"  Under  the  water,  I  suppose  ?"  said  Ned, 

"  "Well,  on  each  side  of  the  island  is  a  wire  which 
extends  into  the  swamp  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 
All  these  are  under  water  and  out  of  sight;  but  the 
others  are  fastened  to  the  bushes  in  our  immediate 
neighborhood.  As  the  main  wires  twist  and  turn 
about  in  every  direction,  you  can  easily  see  that  an 
intruder  doesn't  stand  one  chance  in  a  hundred  of 
getting  by  them.  The  least  touch  on  one  of  those 
wires  would  release  the  spring  that  would  set  one  of 
the  bells  to  clattering." 

"AVhat'sthe  gong  for?" 

"  To  give  us  warning  in  the  day  time,  the  bells  be- 
ing wound  up  at  night  for  fear  that  one  stroke  of 
the  gong  would  not  wake  us  up.  These  bells  keep 
up  a  persistent  racket,  and  if  they  were  to  sound  in 
the  day  time,  they  might  be  the  means  of  drawing  a 
searching  party  to  our  hide  out,  when  they  would 
otherwise  keep  clear  of  it.  We  are  not  spoiling  for 
a  fight,  and  consequently  we  don't  want  anybody  to 
find  our  shanty  if  we  can  help  it.  We're  nicely 
fixed  here,  and   don't   care   to   pull  up   stakes." 

"  AVouldn't  one  bell  do  as  well  as  three  ? "  in- 
quired Ned. 

"Well,  yes;  but  then,  you  see,  we  thought  we 
should  like  to  know  where  the  danger  that 
threatened  us  was  coming  from,  so  I  put  up  all  the 
bells  I  could  lay  hands  on.  When  Luke  and  Joe 
went  away  they  rang  this  bell,  and  that  shows  that 
the}^  touched  the  wire  that  leads  off  to  the  south  of 
tlie  island.     Of  course  they  did  it  on  purpose." 

Ned  waited  a  moment  in  the  hope   that  Sidney 


AN  ALAEM  FBOM  THE  SOUTH.        83 

would  go  on  and  tell  him  where  Luke  and  his  friend 
went,  and  what  the  business  was  that  called  them 
away  from  the  hide  out  at  that  time  of  night;  but  as 
the  boy  did  not  show  any  disposition  to  enlighten 
him  on  that  point,  Ned  asked  : 

"What  did  Luke  mean  b}^  telling  Sam  to  put  up 
the  bars  to  keep  the  wolves  out  of  the  fold  ?  " 

''Why,  this  is  tlie  fold,"  answered  Sidney;  "that 
hunting  party  and  Ryder's  guerrillas  and  every  one 
else  who  wants  to  d(3  us  harm  are  the  wolves,  and 
the  bars  are  the  wires  that  guard  the  narrow  chan- 
nel through  the  cane.  Those  wires  are  always  down 
during  the  day,  because  we  are  constantly  passing 
in  and  out  of  there,  and  we  don't  want  to  keep  ring- 
ing bells  all  the  time;  but  we  never  forget  to  put 
them  up  before  we  turn  in  for  the  night." 

"  I  Avondered  why  you  did  not  have  some  dogs 
with  3^ou  for  a  bodyguard,  but  now  I  believe  I  un- 
derstand the  matter,"  said  the  young  officer.  "  A 
dog  is  liable  to  give  tongue  when  he  ought  to  keep 
still,  and  if  there  were  any  prowlers  about  the  sound 
qf  his  baying  might  bring  them  to  you;  but  the 
bells, never  ring  unless  the  wires  are  disturbed." 

"  You've  hit  it  exactly,"  said  Sidney.  "  Each  one 
of  us  has  a  small  pack  of  hounds  at  home,  but  we 
wouldn't  have  them  find  their  way  to  this  hide  out 
for  all  the  money  there  is  in  the  State  of  Mississippi." 

"Have  you  any  objection  to  telling  me  where 
Luke  and  Joe  went  to  so  suddenly  ?"  asked  Ned 
"  I  saw  them  come  into  this  hide  out,  but  I  didn't 
see  them  afterward." 

"  They  went  through  this  door,"  said  Frank  Bar- 
ron, moving  another  sliding  panel;  but  when  Ned 
looked  out  of  it  he  could  not  see  anything,  until  Tom 
Pike  took  the  candle  from  the  table  and  held  it  in 
the  doorway;  then  Ned  saw  before  him  a  narrow 
passage  which  was  dark  as  a  pocket. 


84  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"It  looks  as  though  it  was  dug  through  the 
ground,  doesn't  it  ?"  said  Sidney.  "  Well,  it  isn't. 
It  is  cut  through  a  dense  clump  of  bushes  which, 
meeting  overhead,  completely  shut  out  every  ray  of 
light,  even  at  midday.  If  you  should  follow  it  about 
twenty  feet,  you  would  find  that  it  leads  to  a  little 
covo  where  we  keep  our  canoes  hidden  Luke  and 
Joe  took  one  of  them  when  they  went  away,  and 
when  they  got  out  a  2)iece  they  touched  one  of  the 
wires,  believing  that  jou  would  sleep  sounder  if  you 
could  see  for  yourself  what  precautions  we  have 
taken  to — holy  Moses  !  "What  was  that  ?"  ejaculated 
Sidney,  in  a  frightened  whisper.  "  Frank,  shut  the 
door  and  cover  up  the  fire.  Tom,  come  here  with 
your  candle." 

As  Sidne}^  spoke  he  sprang  into  the  air,  and  when 
he  landed  on  his  feet  he  had  cleared  the  entire 
length  of  the  hide  out,  and  was  standing  in  front  of 
the  box  that  contained  the  alarm  bells. 

To  push  the  j^anel  from  its  place  was  the  work  of 
but  a  second,  and  a  single  glance  showed  Sidney 
tliat  his  sharp  ears  had  not  deceived  him.  One  of 
the  wires  was  shaking  violently.  The  wii^  com- 
municating with  it  had  been  touched,  but  not  with 
sufficient  force  to  release  the  spring. 

"  Look  at  that,  will  you  !"  whispered  Sidney,  whose 
face  was  as  white  as  a  sheet.  ''  Sam  never  did  that, 
because  he  knows  where  all  the  wires  are,  and  be- 
sides this  comes  from  the  south.  Somebody  is  com- 
ing over  here  from  Vicksburg,  as  sure  as  youre 
born." 

Just  as  Sidney  ceased  speaking,  the  mysterious 
power,  which  had  so  suddenl}'  and  without  the  least 
warning  struck  terror  to  tlie  hearts  of  the  four  refu- 
gees, again  exerted  itself;  the  spring  was  thrown, 
and  one  of  the  bells  set  up  a  fearful  clamor. 


A  STARTLING  ENCOUNTER.  85 


CHAPTEK  XIII. 

A     STARTLING   ENCOUNTER. 

"Look  at  that,  will  you!"  repeated  Sidney,  in 
great  excitement^  at  the  same  time  seizing  the  bell 
and  throwing  the  catch  into  place  so  as  to  stop 
the  racket.  "  This  looks  lik^  business,  sure 
enough." 

"  I  wish  Luke  and  Joe  were  here,"  said  Ned,  "  and 
old  Sam,  too.  I  am  afraid  they  will  stumble  uj)on 
those  felloAVS  in  the  dark." 

"  Don't  be  uneasy,"  replied  Frank  Barron .  "  They 
are  always  on  the  alert,  and  they  will  see  the  enemy 
before  the  latter  see  them,  I  bet  you.  We're  the 
ones  to  be  sorry  for." 

Meanwhile  Tom  Pike,  who  was  smothering  the 
camp  fire  by  piling  wet  leaves  and  green  boughs 
upon  it,  was  startled  by  hearing  a  very  slight  ri.st- 
ling  among  the  cane  in  the  direction  of  the  narrow 
passageway  which  they  generally  used  in  going  to 
and  from  the  swamp. 

He  thought  it  was  Sam,  and  became  sure  of  it 
when  the  cautionary  signal,  the  bark  of  a  red  squir- 
rel, which  he  quickly  gave,  was  as  quickly  an- 
swered. 

A  moment  later  the  old  negro  ran  the  bow  of  his 
dugout  high  upon  the  beach,  and  hastened  toward 
the  shanty.  He  showed  a  good  deal  of  the  whites 
of  his  eyes,  and  his  countenance  e5:j)ressed  the 
greatest  consternation. 


86  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  You  saw  them,  did  you  ?  "  said  Tom,  in  a  low 
tone. 

"Only  one  of  them,  moss'r — only  jes' but  one,  re- 
plied Sam.  "A\lia'  Moss'  Luke — an' — an'  Moss' 
Joe  ?  " 

"  They  have  gone  off  on  a  little  private  business," 
said  Tom,  impatiently. 

"  Whar — whar  'bouts  dey  gone  ?  "  inquired  the 
negro,  who  seemed  to  be  very  much  concerned  for 
the  safety  of  the  absent  boys.  "  What  for  dey  wan' 
fool  ole  Sam  dat  a  way — done  sent  de  nigger  off  wid 
Tramp,  an'  den  slij:)  out  widout  nobod}^  to  took  keer 
on  'em!     Dat's  no  way  to  treat  ole  Sam." 

"  They  can  take  care  of  themselves  without  any  of 
your  help,"  said  Sidney.  "They  have  gone  to  put  a 
letter  on  Colonel  St.  Clair's  doorstep,  telling  him 
that  he  has  been  in  this  country  long  enough. 
There.  Does  that  satisfy  you?  You  say  there  is 
only  one  prowler  out  there.    Did  you  recognize  him?" 

The  negro,  who  was  in  a  state  of  mind  bordering 
on  frenzy,  replied  that  he  did  not  know  who  the 
canoeist  was  who  was  loafing  around  out  there  for 
no  good  purpose.  He  had  watched  him  for  a  long 
time,  while  he  was  waiting  for  a  chance  to 
slip  unobserved  into  the  channel  that  led  to  the 
island,  but  he  could  not  make  him  out.  And  then 
he  began  railing  at  "  Moss'  Luke,  who  had  done 
went  off  in  de  dark  widout  takin'  de  ole  nigger  along 
to  show  him  de  way  an'  fetch  him  safe  back." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  he  could  recognize  anybody  in 
such  darkness  as  this,"  said  Ned  Marsh,  as  he 
buckled  on  his  side  arms.  '^When  I  came  in  T 
couldn't  see  my  hand  before  me." 

"  It's  lighter  now  than  it  was  then,  for  the  moon 
is  coming  up,"  answered  Sidney.  "But  there  are  a 
good  many  ways  of  telling  a  man  in  the  dark,  even 
if  you  can't  see   anything  but   the   outlines   of   his 


A  STARTLma  ENCOUNTER.  87 

figure.  You  can  distinguish  him  by  his  motions. 
No  two  men  ride  a  cauoe  just  alike,  and  ahnost 
every  one  has  a  way  of  handling  a  i)addle  that  is 
peculiar  to  himself.  You  see,  Duckfoot,  how  acute 
one's  senses  become  after " 

The  sudden  and  violent  ringing  of  one  of  the 
bells  cut  short  Sidney's  words.  It  was  dark  in  the 
hide  out,  for  Sid  had  blown  out  the  candle  after  he 
got  through  using  it  ;  but  Ned  Marsh  knew,  as  well 
as  the  others  did,  that  the  bell  was  not  the  one  that 
rang  before.  The  tone  was  different.  This  proved 
that  the  island  was  being  approached  from  another 
direction. 

"  Oh,  Lawd !  Oh,  Lawd,  look  down  on  us  poor 
mis'able  niggers  !"  groaned  old  Sam,  who  was  fright- 
ened half  to  death.  ''  If  you  don't  watch  up  dar,  olf> 
Sam  gone  up,  suah  I" 

*•  Yes,  I  think  old  Sam  has  gone  up  this  time," 
was  the  comforting  reply  of  Sidney  Jones,  who  made 
all  haste  to  stop  the  clangor  of  the  bell.  "  This  is 
all  the  evidence  we  want  that  you  didn't  see  all 
those  prowlers.  This  warning  comes  from  the  east, 
and  shows  that  the  island  is  surrounded  already. 
Old  man,  I  think  you  will  have  to  go  to  Yicksburg 
this  time." 

*'0h,  LaAvd!"said  old  Sam  again;  and  like  the 
pious  darky  he  was,  he  began  praying  for  just  what 
he  wanted.  "  Don't  luf  de  rebbels  gobble  de  good 
ole  nigger  up  'fore  your  face  an'  eyes,  an'  tote  him 
away  to  Yicksburg  to  whack  de  army  mu-els.  Sam 
too  ole  fur  dat  sort  o'  work,  an'  he  break  his  ole 
back,  suah." 

"  Couldn't  the  single  man  that  Sam  saw  go  clear 
around  the  island  during  the  time  we  have  been 
talking?" 

"Yes,  he  could  do  that;  but  it  isn't  at  all  likely 
that  he  has  done  it,  unless  he  knows  right  where  the 


88  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

island  is,"  replied  Frank  Barron.  "  And  if  he  knows 
that,  who  posted  him?  Who  told  him  where  to 
find  us?'' 

Just  then  a  thrilling  whisper  came  to  them 
through  the  darkness.  It  was  from  Tom  Pike,  and 
the  words  he  uttered  made  them  shiver  as  if  some 
one  had  dropped  a  lump  of  ice  down  their  backs. 
He  had  left  the  hide  out  to  finish  the  work  of  smoth- 
ering the  camp  fire,  after  which  ho  stopped  a  mo- 
ment to  listen. 

"Boys,"  said  he,  in  trembling  tones,  "here's  the 
queerest  thing  I  ever  heard  of.  The  signal  has  been 
given  all  fair  and  square." 

"No!"  gasped  Sidney  and  Frank,  hurrying  out  of 
the  shanty  with  Ned  at  their  heels. 

"  But  I  say  yes,"  insisted  Tom.  "  My  ears  never 
went  back  on  me  yet.  Now,  wait  a  minute,  and  per- 
haps we  shall  all  hear  it." 

The  boys  held  their  breath  to  listen,  and  after  a 
little  silence  the  signal  was  given.  It  was  a  i:)erfect 
imitation  of  the  bark  of  a  red  squirrel — the  i^j)-r-r-r 
that  the  little  animal  utters  before  he  begins  danc- 
ing about  on  the  tree  and  scolding  at  the  schoolboy 
beneath,  who  is  picking  up  the  nuts  which  the  in- 
dustrious rodent  had  thrown  down  for  his  own  win- 
ter's use. 

At  the  same  instant  there  was  an  alarm  from  the 
third  bell,  and  Sidney  hastened  into  the  hide  out  to 
stop  it. 

"  That  signal  frightens  me,"  whispered  Tom  Pike. 
"  It's  the  most  terrifj^ng  sound  I  ever  heard  in  my 
life.  Neither  Luke  nor  Joe  could  have  given  it,  for 
they  wouldn't  have  set  all  those  bells  to  ringing. 
There's  some  stranger  out  there,  and  his  presence 
means  treachery.     That's  the  long  and  short  of  it." 

"Now,  then,"  said  Sidney,  joining  the  group 
again,  after  stopping  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  "  sug- 


A  STARTLING  ENCOUNTER.  89 

gest  something,  somebody.  I  confess  I  don't  know 
what  to  do.  I  wish  that  fellow,  whoever  he  may  be 
was  miles  from  here;  but  if  he's  a  friend " 

"  Friend  !"  interrupted  Tom  Pike. 

"Deserter,  then,"  continued  Sidney.  *' We  have 
opened  the  door  of  our  hide  out  to  one  or  two  of 
them  since  we  have  been  here." 

"I  know  that;  but  we  picked  them  up  in  the 
swamp  in  broad  daylight.  They  didn't  come  in  the 
dark,  as  this  chap  does,  and  with  that  signal  on  their 
lij)s.     Why,  our  mothers  don't  know  it." 

"  But  don't  your  fathers  and  elder  brothers  know 
it  r  asked  Ned  Marsh. 

"  Two  heads  are  better  than  one,  if  one  is  a  Yank's 
head,"  exclaimed  Todi,  who  instantly  became  so  ex- 
cited that  he  could  scarcely  stand  still.  He  felt  for 
Ned's  hand  in  the  dark,  and  when  he  got  hold  of  it 
he  worked  it  up  and  down  like  a  pump  handle. 
"  That's  one  of  our  people  out  there,  as  sure  as 
you're  born.  Give  him  an  answer,  boys.  My  lips 
won't  get  into  the  right  shape,  with  all  my  trying." 

"Don't  be  too  hasty  in  jumping  at  conclusions," 
cautioned  Ned,  who  was  not  a  little  surprised  at  the 
flutter  which  his  chance  inquiry  had  occasioned 
among  the  boys  around  him.  "Think  and  hope 
what  you  please,  but  don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  expose 
yourselves  to  an  attack.  I  wish  we  had  a  dark  lan- 
tern." 

"We've  got  one,"  answered  all  the  boys  at  once. 
"What  do  you  want  to  do  with  it?" 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  for  a  couple  of 
us  to  go  out  there  quietly,  and  see  who  that  fellow 
is.  As  soon  as  we  can  locate  him  we'll  cover  him, 
and  keep  him  covered  until  he  satisfies  us  that  he  is 
all  right.     I  will  go  for  one." 

"  It  will  bring  on  a  fight,  won't  it  ?  "  inquired 
Sidney, 


90  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  Who  cares  if  it  does  ?  "  answered  Ned.  "  Then 
this  terrible  suspense  will  be  ended,  and  we  shall 
know  just  what  we've  got  before  us.  If  we've  got 
to  fight,  let's  get  about  it  at  once." 

"But  the  moment  you  flash  the  lantern  on  that 
fellow,  if  you  succeed  in  finding  him,  it  will  become 
a  target  for  the  rifles  of  all  his  friends,"  objected 
Frank,  w^ho,  although  he  hoped  and  almost  believed 
that  the  man  who  had  given  the  signal  was  one  who 
had  a  right  to  have  it,  was  afraid  to  run  any  risks. 

"I  will  manage  the  lantern  myself,  and  when  I 
turn  on  the  light  I  will  take  care  to  hold  it  so  that 
the  boy  who  goes  with  me  cannot  be  seen  by  any 
concealed  marksman,"  answered  Ned.  ''  I  will  take 
my  chances,  and  do  what  I  can  to  shield  my  com- 
l^anion." 

"Your  idea  is  a  good  one,  and  I  will  helj^  you 
carry  it  out,"  said  Sidney,  quietly.  "  If  we  don't 
make  him  show  his  colors,  he  may  keep  us  trembling 
with  ai:)prehension  all  night  long.  More  than  that, 
if  there  is  danger  about  we  want  to  know  it,  so  that 
we  can  warn  Luke  and  Joe  before  they  run  into  it." 

Having  made  up  his  mind  that  the  man  who  had 
intruded  his  unwelcome  j^resence  into  their  neigh- 
borhood should  be  made  to  reveal  his  identity  with- 
out much  ado,  Sidney  lost  no  time  in  getting  ready 
to  put  Ned's  plan  into  execution. 

He  found  and  lighted  the  dark  lantern,  leaving 
the  slide  oj^en  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch,  so  that 
he  and  Ned  could  see  to  shove  off  Sam's  canoe.  The 
young  officer  unhooked  his  sword  and  handed  it  to 
Tom,  but  left  his  revolver  in  the  holster,  while  Sid- 
ney armed  himself  with  a  heavy  double  barreled 
shot  gun. 

As  soon  as  they  were  fairly  seated  in  the  dugout, 
Sidney  in  front  to  let  down  the  bars  and  act  as  pilot, 
they  pushed  off  into  the  darkness. 


A  STARTLING  ENCOUNTER.  91 

The  passage  which  led  from  the  camp  to  the  open 
swamp  was  so  narrow  that  they  could  not  use  their 
paddles  to  any  advantage,  so  they  worked  their 
way  along  by  pulling  at  the  cane  on  each  side  of 
them,  Sidney  calling  a  halt  every  now  and  then  to 
take  down  and  lay  aside  the  wires  that  communi- 
cated Avith  the  alarm  bells. 

As  he  could  not  see  any  landmarks  to  guide  him 
in  his  search  for  the  wires,  Ned  wondered  how  it 
was  possible  for  him  to  find  them  all  ;  but  he  must 
have  succeeded  in  doing  it,  for  Tom  and  Frank 
afterward  told  him  that  Sidney  performed  this  deli- 
cate piece  of  work  so  skillfully  that  he  did  not  bring 
the  faintest  tinkle  from  the  box. 

After  a  long  interval  of  suspense  and  careful 
maneuvering,  Ned  discovered  that  it  was  not  as  dark 
as  it  had  been.  They  had  worked  their  way  out  of 
the  thicket,  and  the  canoe  was  resting  on  the  almost 
currentless  waters  of  the  oj)en  swamp,  but  entirely 
concealed  from  the  view  of  any  one  who  might 
hajDpen  to  be  in  the  vicinity,  by  the  dense  shadow  of 
the  cane  which  grew  close  beside  it. 

While  Ned  was  looking  all  around  to  find  some- 
thing suspicious,  Sidney's  trained  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  an  object  that  attracted  his  attention  the  in- 
stant the  canoe  was  clear  of  the  bushes.  He  put  his 
hand  behind  him  and  gave  Ned's  leg  a  pinch.  The 
young  officer  did  not  understand  the  signal,  if  such 
it  was  intended  to  be,  but  he  saw  his  companion  pick 
up  his  gun  and  raise  it  slowly  and  cautiously  to  his 
face,  and  this  told  him  that  the  time  for  action  had 
arrived. 

Quickly  seizing  the  lantern,  which  he  had  placed 
between  his  feet  on  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  Ned 
threw  back  the  slide,  and  in  a  second  all  that  part 
of  the  swamj:*  grew  as  bright  as  noonday. 

The  blinding  glare  of  the  bull's  eye  fell  squarely 


92  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

upon  the  face  of  .a  big  Avliiskered  man  in  gray  uni- 
form, ^vll0  sat  in  a  dugout  a  short  distance  away, 
and  who  was  plainly  much  astonished  to  find  him- 
self so  suddenly  confronted  hy  a  dazzling  light  and 
the  black  muzzle  of  Sidney's  double  barrel.  ,  Until 
that  instant  he  did  not  know  that  there  Avas  any  one 
near  him,  any  more  than  Ned  Marsh  knew  that  the 
rebel  himself  was  almost  within  reach  of  his  ^rnddle. 

"  Throw^  up  your  hands  and  sj^eak  quick  I  "  com- 
manded Sidney;  while  Ned,  mindful  of  his  2:)romise, 
backed  away  fi'om  him  as  far  as  he  could,  and  held 
tlie  lantern  high  above  his  head,  taking  care,  how- 
ii\ev,  to  keep  it  focused  uj^on  the  face  of  the  rebel, 
who  promptly  laid  his  paddle  across  the  canoe  in 
front  of  him,  and  raised  his  oi)en  hand  in  the  air. 

"  And  while  yon  are  talking,  bear  in  mind  that  a 
regiment  of  men  can't  save  you  if  you  try  to  play 
any  tricks  upon  us,"  added  Ned.  "  We've  got  you 
covered,  and  the  slightest  sign  of  treachery  wdll  be 
the  signal  for  your  death. " 

"  I  don't  blame  you  for  the  precautions  you  are  tak- 
ing," said  the  man,  in  a  quiet  tone;  and  as  soon  as 
Ned  heard  his  voice  he  told  himself  that  they  had  to 
do  with  one  who  always  kept  a  level  head*  on  his 
shoulders,  and  who  knew  what  danger  was.  "  If  you 
will  let  me  put  my  hand  into  my  breast  pocket,  or  if 
you  will  come  alongside  and  put  your  hand 
there,  you  will  find  some  letters  that  will  show  you 
who  and  what  I  am.     I  am  a  Union  spy." 

Sidney  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  Ned  over  the 
stock  of  his  ready  gun  long  enough  to  ask  :  "Did 
you  ever  hear  of  a  Union  spy  prancing  around  in  a 
rebel  uniform  ?  "  and  then  dropped  his  eye  along 
the  barrel  again,  and  covered  the  middle  button  on 
the  man's  jacket,  as  before. 

Before  Ned  could  repl}^  the  man  electrified  him  by 
saying,  in  the  same  calm  steady  voice  : 


A  STARTLING  ENCOUNTER.  93 

"  My  name  is  Proctor,  and  I  am  pretty  well  known 
to  some  of  the  officers  serving  under  Admiral  Porter, 
although  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  that  gen- 
tleman before,"  nodding  at  Ned. 

"  Your  name  is  Proctor,  is  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Ned,  and 
Sidney  wondered  what  made  his  voice  tremble. 
"  Tell  me  what  boat  you  boarded  at  Lake  Providence 
three  weeks  ago,  who  sent  you  there,  and  who 
ordered  you  to  tell  her  commander  that  the  proj^osed 
overland  passage  from  the  lake  to  Red  River  was 
impracticable." 

"  It  was  the  Benton,"  replied  the  man,  promptly. 
"  And  I  was " 

"The  Benton  wasn't  within  a  hundred  miles  of 
there,"  answered  Ned,  with  suppressed  furj-. 
"You're  a  fraud  of  the  first  water  !  Shoot  him,  Sid. 
He's  got  friends  close  at  hand." 

Before  the  astonished  Sidney  could  act  upon  this 
suggestion,  or  protest  against  it,  the  young  officer's 
last  words  were  verified  in  a  most  startling  manner. 
A  rifle  cracked,  a  bullet  sped  through  the  air,  and  the 
dark  lantern  was  smashed  to  pieces  in  Ned  Marsh's 
hand. 


94  LUKE  BENNETT'S  lUDE  OUT. 


CHArTEE    XIV. 

A    VISITOR    AND     A     TRAP. 

"Well,  f::cntlcmen,"  obsorved  Colonel  St.  Clair, 
renewing  the  conversation  wliicli  I  intcrrui)te(l  at 
the  close  of  the  eleventh  diapier,  "that  cniiuing  old 
darky  lias  showed  himself  to  be  too  smart  for  ns 
this  ti]ne,  and  we  might  as  well  give  np  the  search 
and  look  for  a  place  to  go  into  camp.  His  presence 
jiroves  that  Luke  Bennett's  hide  out  is  at  no  great 
distance  from  here,  and  I  think  the  best  thing  we 
can  d(j  is  to  reconnoiter  this  ])art  of  the  swamp  very 
carefully  before  going  elsewhere.  We've  got  a  faint 
trail,  and  we  don't  want  to  drop  it  until  we  reach 
the  end  of  it." 

It  was,  indeed,  a  very  faint  trail  that  they  had 
stumbled  ujion,  and  ^vliether  or  not  they  would  have 
succeeded  in  following  it,  if  tliey  had  been  left  to 
their  own  devices,  is  o,  ^[uestion  that  cannot  no^v  be 
answered;  but,  as  Iuck  wonld  have  it,  something 
liappened  that  night  which  gave  them  the  very  in- 
formation they  wanted.  It  was  something,  too,  that 
put  in  jeopardy  the  life  of  every  man  and  boy  who 
was  engaged  in  it. 

Having  decided  to  establish  a  permanent  camj^, 
and  make  it  the  basis  of  operations  against  Luke 
Bennett  and  his  band  of  refugees,  the  next  th.ing 
was  to  find  a  spot  of  drv  ground  on  wdiich  to  build 
that  camj^. 

This  proved  to  be  a  matter  of  no  little  difficulty, 


'A  VISITOR  AND  A  TRAP.  95 

and  the  day  was  well  spent  before  they  discovered  a 
place  that  was  at  all  suited  to  their  purj)ose.  The 
little  island  rested  on  a  very  insecure  foundation, 
for  Ike  Bishop,  w^ho  was  the  first  one  to  land  ujDon 
it,  could  stand  in  the  middle  of  it  and  shake  it  to  its 
circumference  by  simply  bendin^^  his  knees  and 
straightening  them  out  quickly.  If  it  had  not  been 
anchored  by  the  roots  of  tlie  trees  that  grew  upon 
it  it  would  have  floated  off  into  the  bayou. 

But  it  was  that  or  nothing,  so  the  members  of  the 
party  threw  off  tlieir  coats,  seized  their  axes  and 
went  to  work.  They  quickly  put  up  a  commodious 
lean  to,  under  whose  friendly  roof  they  jailed  fragranf 
boughs  to  the  depth  of  a  foot  or  more  to  keep  tlieir 
beds  off  the  damp  ground;  the  canoes  were  unload- 
ed and  a  fire  started,  over  which  Ike  Bishoj)  fried 
the  bacon  and  prepared  the  parched  corn  coffee. 

By  the  time  darkness  settled  down  over  the  swamp 
they  were  snugly  housed,  and  no  one  would  have 
suspected  that  there  was  a  camp  there  had  it  not 
been  for  the  reflection  of  their  fire  upon  the  branches 
of  the  trees  over  their  heads.  But  then  these  men 
had  no  enemies  to  fear,  and  there  was  no  need  for 
them  to  hide  their  camp,  as  Luke  and  his  compan- 
ions had  hidden  theirs. 

"  I  suppose  that  when  w^e  invite  ourselves  to  sup- 
per in  Luke  Bennett's  hide  out,  Ike  will  be  able  to 
give  us  a  better  meal  than  this,"  said  Captain  Griffin, 
as  he  fished  a  slice  of  bacon  out  of  the  frying  pan 
with  his  pocket  knife,  and  laid  it  upon  his  slice  of 
corn  bread.  "I  see  no  reason  why  those  boys 
should  not  live  about  as  well  as  they  did  at  home." 

"  Nor  me,"  exclaimed  Ike.  "  They've  got  cows 
to  give  'em  milk  an'  butter,  an'  niggers  to  raise 
gyarding  truck  for  'em;  an'  the  people  in  the  settle- 
ment do  say  that  they  used  to  make  long  tri2:»s  with 
that  thar  gyarding  truck  in  them  canoes  of  theirn 


96  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

an'  that  when  tliey  come  back  they'd  have  piles  an' 
piles  of  store  tea  an'  coffee,  an'  shoes  an'  good  clothes 
an'  all  manner  of  sich.  They  traded  with  the  gun- 
boats, dog  gone  'em.  They  give  aid  an'  comfort  to 
the  enemy  by  bringin'  of  'em  good  taters  an'  things 
to  eat,  an'  that's  forbid  by  the  law." 

"  So  it  is,  Ike,"  assented  the  colonel,  "  and  it  is  all 
Ryder's  fault.  He  ought  to  have  kept  the  families 
of  those  of  us  who  are  fighting  for  the  South  above 
want  with  that  company  of  his.  The  unarmed 
fiteamcrs  that  ply  on  the  river  would  afford  him  a 
fine  field  for  his  operations.  They  are  always  well 
found,  and,  if  he  were  a  man  of  any  energy  at  all,  he 
could  have  captured  and  burned  dozens  of  them  be- 
fore this  time,  and  filled  the  settlement  with  sup- 
plies of  all  kinds,  besides  giving  the  Yanks  no  end 
of  trouble.  I  know  I  could  have  done  it,  but  in- 
stead of  that  my  wife  and  daughters  have  been  com- 
pelled to  accept  assistance  at  the  hands  of  women 
they  loathe  on  account  of  their  Union  sentiments." 

"'Tain't  right,  sich  things  ain't,"  said  Ike.  "I  am 
fightin'  an'  bleedin'  for  the  'Federacy  every  day,.an' 
my  mam  has  to  go  barefoot,  while  the  mothers  of 
them  boys  who  dassent  come  out  an'  put  on  a  gray 
jacket  has  gunboat  shoes  to  wear.  Dog  gone  sich 
doin's,  any  way!  Say,  kurnel,  how  much'll  my 
shar'  of  Luke  Bennett's  money  be  when  we  get  it  ?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  was  the  rejDly.     "  It 
ought  to  be  something  handsome.     I  think  I  may 
^  safely  promise  that  you  will  be  able   to   go  over  to 
*  Vicksburg  and  buy  your  mother  a  pair  of  shoes." 

"Shaw!"  said  Ike,  who  was  very  much  disap- 
pointed. "  Is  that  all  I'll  get  for  runnin'  the  risk  of 
gettin'  my  mam's  house  burnt  up  over  her  head  ?  If 
I  was  sure  of  it  I'd  turn  loose  from  this  here  party 
to  onct  an'  go  to  huntin'  meat.  I  did  think  that 
I'd  get  as  much  as  five  or  six  thousand  dollars." 


A  VISITOR  AND  A  TRAP.  97 

"Why,  Ike,"  reiDlied  the  colonel,  who  wondered 
what  the  boy  would  think  if  he  knew  that  four 
members  of  that  party,  himself  included,  confidently 
expected  to  j^ocket  at  least  twenty  thousand  dol- 
lars apiece  when  the  treasure  that  Luke  Bennett 
and  his  friends  had  concealed  should  be  brought  to 
light;  "  a  pair  of  good  shoes  are  not  to  be  sneezed 
at,  especially  in  cold  weather.  They  are  worth 
seventy  five  dollars." 

"  Not  in  good  money,  though,"  answered  Ike,  who 
was  not  quite  so  much  of  a  simpleton  on  some  points 
as  he  was  on  others. 

"Don't  you  call  that  good  money  ?"  demanded  the 
colonel,  pulling  out  his  pocketbook  and  exhibiting 
a  twenty  dollar  Confederate  bill.  "Wait  until 
Bragg's  army  gets  over  into  Ohio,  and  see  how  glad 
the  Yanks  will  be  to  take  it  in  exchange  for  their 
goods !" 

"  Course  they'll  be  if  we  p'int  our  guns  at  'em  an' 
tell  'em  they  must.  I  tell  you,  kurn,  it'll  be  a  long 
time  before  that  thar  money  will  buy  as  much  grub 
an'  clothes  as  twenty  dollars  in  Yankee  gold'll  buy." 

Ike  Bishop  showed  considerable  sense  when  he 
made  this  statement.  In  less  than  a  year  from  that 
time  the  Confederate  dollar  was  worth  just  two 
cents  in  gold,  and  all  the  necessaries  of  life  com- 
manded unheard  of  prices. 

Hams  were  worth  three  hundred  dollars  apiece, 
flour  was  six  hundred  dollars  a  barrel,  sugar  thirty 
dollars  a  pound,  salt  one  dollar,  and  butter  and  beef 
forty  dollars  a  pound;  a  turkey  which  graced  the 
head  of  a  Richmond  table  on  that  Christmas  day 
was  estimated  to  be  worth  a  hundred  and  fifty  five 
dollars;  the  cabbages,  potatoes  and  hominy  that 
flanked  it  cost  a  hundred  dollars;  the  meal  of  which 
the  corn  bread  was  made  was  valued  at  eighty  dol- 
lars a  bushel,  and  the  "  store  "  cojffiee  which  came 


98  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HmE  OUT. 

after  the  dinner,  and  of  which  the  hostess  could  al- 
low her  guests  but  a  single  cup  apiece,  was  worth  a 
hundred  dollars  a  pound. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write  these  things  were 
high  enough  and  scarce  enough;  and  I  don't  know 
that  I  wonder  at  Ike  Bishop  and  Colonel  St.  Clair 
for  being  so  sj^iteful  against  the  stay  at  home  Union 
people  about  them,  who  were  able,  by  good  manage- 
ment, to  live  so  much  better  than  the  wives  and 
children  of  those  who  went  into  the  army. 

"  If  that  tliar  money  of  ourn  is  so  j^owerful  good, 
how  does  it  come  that  we  iins  alwaj's  s'arch  the 
Yanks  we  find  on  the  battlefield,  an'  take  the  green- 
backs outen  their  pockets  afore  we  lay  a  finger  onto 
their  shoes,  an'  other  things  we  uns  need  to  w'ar  ?  " 
continued  Ike,  whose  question^  showed  that  he  had 
learned  to  keep  his  eyes  open  since  he  went  into  the 
army.  "I  don't  know  of  a  single  feller  in  our  reg'- 
mint  who  wouldn't  ruther  have  greenbacks  than  our 
own  money,  every  day  in  the  week.  Say,  kurn,  do 
you  think  my  shar'  will  be  enough  to  get  me  a  com- 
mission ?  " 

"  A  commission  ?  We  don't  buy  and  sell  commis- 
sions in  this  country  as  they  do  in  England.'* 

The  colonel  thought  he  had  never  heard  of  such  a 
piece  of  impudence  before.  Wouldn't  this  uncouth 
fellow  cut  a  pretty  figure  in  an  officers'  mess  ?  It 
was  his  business  to  be  content  to  stay  in  the  ranks 
and  handle  a  musket  ;  but  the  colonel  dared  not  tell 
him  so,  for  fear  that  Ike  would  pack  up  his  traps  and 
clear  out,  leaving  the  rest  of  them  to  prosecute  their 
search  alone. 

Ike  knew  more  about  the  swamp  than  they  did, 
for  he  had  done  little  but  roam  al)out  in  it  since  he 
was  Ijig  enougli  to  shoulder  a  gun,  and  they  needed 
him  for  a  guide  ;  so  the  colonel  sought  to  drive 
away  the  gloomy  look  on  his  face  by  saying: 


A  VISITOR  AND  A  TRAP.  99 

"  Find  Luke  Bennett's  hiding  place  for  us  and 
help  us  capture  him,  and  I  will  guarantee  you  five 
thousand  dollars  in  gold.  More  than  that,  I  will 
mention  your  services  to  your  commander,  and  at 
my  request  he  will  keep  an  eye  on  you  and  give  you 
every  chance  to  work  your  way  out  of  the  ranks. 
Brave  men  and  good  soldiers  are  always  in  demand 
for  higher  positions,  and  I  can  see  no  reason  why 
you " 

The  colonel  suddenly  j^aused  and  bent  his  head  in 
a  listening  attitude,  while  his  companions  looked 
inquiringly  at  one  another,  and  reached  rather 
hurriedly  for  their  weapons.  The  very  slight  sound 
which  attracted  their  attention  would  not  have  been 
noticed  at  all  in  the  day  time,  but  now  it  aroused 
their  suspicions. 

"  Ked  squirrels  do  not  frequent  a  country  that  has 
been  under  water  as  long  as  this  one  has,  and  be- 
sides, they  don't  roam  the  woods  at  night,"  said  the 
colonel,  looking  up  at  tlie  trees  over  his  head.  "  The 
light  from  our  camp  fire  has  been  seen  by  somebody, 
and  that  chirping  is  intended  for  a  signal." 

"  Mebbe  it's  one  of  them  fellers,  who  has  lost  his 
way  an'  don't  know  which  way  to  go  to  find  the  hide 
out,"  suggested  Ike  Bishop. 

*'I  thouglit  of  that,"  said  Captain  Griffin. 

"  So  did  I,"  answered  the  colonel.  "  Ike,  you  stay 
here  and  reply  to  him,  and  the  rest  of  us  will  station 
ourselves  behind  the  lean  to  out  of  sight,  and  be 
ready  to  cover  him  the  moment  he  shows  himself. 
Bring  him  up  if  you  can,  and  remember  that  if  it  is 
one  of  Luke  Bennett's  party,  you  may  have  five 
thousand  dollars  in  your  pocket  by  this  time  to- 
morrow." 

Ike's  heart  beat  high  with  i:>leasurable  anticipa- 
tions, and  when  the  last  of  his  companions  had 
followed  Colonel  St.  Clair  behind  the  lean  to,  he  set 


100  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

himself  to  work  to  draw  the  invisible  party  outside 
into  the  trap  set  for  him. 

Ike  could  imitate  anything,  from  the  love  notes  of 
a  quail  to  the  wild  scream  of  a  hawk  ;  and  the  long, 
shrill  chirjo  he  sent  up  in  answer  was  perfect  in  its 
execution,  while  its  result  was  perfectly  gratifying. 

The  sif^nal  was  given  again,  and  as  jiromj^tly 
resj^onded  to;  and  j^resently  a  slight  commotion 
among  the  bushes  told  Ike  that  the  stranger  was 
pushing  his  canoe  toward  the  island.  Then  he 
stopped  and  listened  for  a  while,  as  if  he  wanted  to 
make  sure  of  his  reception  before  going  any  closer 
to  the  camp  fire,  and  finally  he  called  out  : 

"  Hello,  in  there  !      Don't  shoot.     I'm  a  friend." 

"  That  voice  doesn't  belong  to  Luke  Bennett  or 
any  of  his  friends,"  said  the  colonel,  stepi^iug  from 
his  place  of  concealment  and  whispering  the  words 
close  to  Ike's  ear.  "  It's  a  man.  Tell  him  not  to  be 
afraid,  but  to  come  on;  we're  friends,  too,  remend^er, 
but  don't  tell  him  whether  we're  Union  or  rebel  until 
you  find  out  who  he  is.  Now,  show  how  smart  you 
are,  and  I  will  promise  jow  six  thousand  dollars  out 
of  Luke  Bennett's  money." 

Although  these  words  were  spoken  so  rapidly  that 
they  seemed  to  come  out  of  the  colonel's  mouth  all 
at  once,  Ike  gras];)ed  their  meaning,  and  made  the 
mental  resolution  that  he  Avould  do  something  to 
earn  that  extra  thousand.  So,  as  soon  as  the  colonel 
went  back  to  his  hiding  place,  he  said,  in  low  but 
distinct  tones: 

"  I'm  a  friend,  too,  so  come  on  an'  don't  be  afeared." 

"  What  are  you  doing  in  there  ?  "  asked  the  man. 

"Meat  hunting,"  was  Ike's  reply.  "Got  lost  an' 
had  to  camp  right  whar  the  dark  ketched  me." 

••How  many  of  you  are  there?"  was  the  next 
question. 

<'  Nobody  but  jes'  me,"   answered   Ike,  while   the 


A  VISITOR  AND  A  TRAP.  101 

colonel  nodded  and  winked  to  his  friends  behind 
the  lean  to,  as  if  to  say  that  their  guide  was  not  aa 
big  a  fool  as  he  looked  to  be. 

By  this  time  the  man  must  have  become  satisfied 
that  he  had  stumbled  upon  the  camp  of  a  belated 
bear  hunter,  for  he  did  not  hesitate  any  longer. 
He  pushed  his  way  through  the  bushes  into  the 
circle  of  light  thrown  out  by  the  fire,  and  presently 
Ike  was  gazing  at  a  tall,  broad  shouldered  man  with 
long  brown  whiskers,  who  was  dressed  in  the  uni- 
form of  a  Confederate  captain. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  demanded,  returning  Ike's 
sf.are  with  interest,  at  the  same  time  lifting  a  heavy 
revolver  from  the  bottom  of  his  canoe  and  resting  it 
carelessly  across  his  knee. 

"  Who,  me  ?     I'm  Luke  Bennett." 

"  You  are  ?  "  exclaimed  the*  visitor,  who  seemed  to 
be  very  much  pleased.  "Then  you're  the  boy  I 
want  to  see.  I  have  just  escaped  from  Vicksburg 
with  your  father's  help,  and  I  have  brought  3'ou 
several  letters  from  your  friends  over  there." 

"  Hey  yoop  !  "  was  the  mental  exclamation.  "I've 
ketched  somebody,  sure  pop.  If  he  ain't  a  deserter, 
then  he's  a  spy.     Bully  for  me  1 " 


102  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

MOVING    UPON    THE    HIDE    OUT. 

Ike  Bishop  was  a  big  feeling  boy  about  tbat  time 
He  had  "  ketclied  somebody  sure  pop,"  and  tbat  was 
an  exploit  tbat  bis  commanding  officer  up  in 
Tennessee  would  not  2")ermit  to  pass  unnoticed, 
especially  if  Colonel  8t.  Clair  beld  to  bis  ]H-omise, 
and  spoke  a  good  word  for  bini.  Ike  gloated  over 
tbis  reflection  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  tben  anotber 
tbougbt  came  into  bis  mind,  or  ratber  a  wliole  train 
of  tbem. 

In  trying  to  straigbten  tbem  out  so  tbat  be  could 
could  understand  tbem,  Ike,  wbose  perceptions  were 
none  of  tbe  clearest  at  any  time,  found  tbat  be  was 
getting  things  sadly  "  muddled."  Who  was  tbis  .man 
who  was  so  ready  to  declare  tliat  be  had  escaped 
from  Vicksburg  with  tbe  help  of  Luke  Bennett's  fa- 
ther, and  that  be  had  letters  in  his  jDossession 
which  Mr.  Bennett  and  bis  conscripted  companions 
bad  written  to  their  friends  at  home  ? 

Ike  bad  a  vague  idea  that  his  visitor's  unexpected 
coming  would  result  in  bringing  all  the  bated 
Unionists  in  the  settlement  into  serious  trouble;  but 
just  how  it  was  going  to  be  brought  about,  he  could 
not  determine.  He  began  to  think  it  about  time  for 
tbe  colonel  to  come  out  and  take  the  visitor  off  his 
bands;  but  that  gentleman  preferred  to  wait  until 
tbe  brown  whiskered  man  bad  fully  committed  bim- 


MOVING  UPON  THE  HIDE  OUT.  103 

self,  before  he  sprang  from  his  place  of  concealment 
and  made  a  prisoner  of  him. 

While  Ike  was  wondering  what  he  ought  to  say 
next,  the  visitor  continued: 

•'  My  name  is  Proctor,  and  1  am  a  Union  spy.  I 
was  captured  away  up  country  by  some  of  Van 
Dorn's  men,  and  sent  to  Vicksburg  to  be  tried  and 
shot;  but  I  found  friends,  your  father  and  Mr.  Ram- 
say and  Mr.  Barron  among  the  number,  who  helped 
me  out  of  one  of  the  worst  scraj^es  I  ever  got  into. 
They  told  me  about  where  to  find  your  hide  out, 
gave  me  the  signal,  and  intrusted  these  letters  to 
my  keeping.  Of  course  you  know  your  father's 
handwriting  ?" 

While  Proctor  (if  that  was  his  name)  was  talking 
in  this  way  he  came  ashore,  and  took  some  letters 
from  his  j^ocket,  one  of  which  he  handed  to  Ike.  He 
stood  over  the  boy  and  saw  him  turn  the  envelope 
upside  down  and  fasten  his  eyes  upon  the  address, 
and  then  it  seemed  to  dawn  upon  him,  all  on  a  sud- 
den, that  there  was  something  in  the  situation  that 
did  not  look  just  right.  How  did  it  come,  he  asked 
himself,  that  so  refined  and  well  educated  a  man  as 
he  knew  Mr.  Bennett  to  be,  could  have  such  an  ig- 
norant boor  as  this  boy  was  for  a  son  ? 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  that  you  are  Luke  Bennett  ?" 
said  he. 

"Didn't  I  answer  your  signal  fair  an'  squar'?' 
asked  Ike,  in  reply. 

"You  did,  but  you  can't  act  out  the  i^art  you  have 
assumed,  for  reasons  best  known  to  yourself,"  re- 
plied Proctor,  laying  hold  of  the  butt  of  his  revolver, 
which  he  had  i^ut  under  his  arm  when  he  took  the 
letters  from  his  pocket.  "  You  don't  know  enough 
to  hold  that  letter  right  side  up.  What's  your 
game,  my  lad?     Speak  the  truth  this  time,  or " 

"Drop   that  and  throw  up  yom'  hands!"  com- 


104  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

mancled  tlio  stern  voice  of  Colonel  St.  Clair;  and 
the  brown  whiskered  man  looked  up  to  find  four 
cocked  guns  looking  him  straight  in  the  face. 

"  You  have  been  very  neatly  trapi)ed,  my  man,  and 
Ike,  you  phiyed  your  part  to  perfection,"  said  the 
colonel,  holding  out  his  hand  for  the  letters  which 
Ike  promptly  surrendered  to  him.  "  You  told  the 
truth  on  one  point,  at  all  events,  for  these  docu- 
ments are  genuine.  This  one  is  from  that  traitor, 
Bennett.  He  was  a  near  neighbor  of  mine  before 
the  war,  and  I  know  his  writing.  Now  then,  sir, 
who  are  you  ?" 

"  If  you  want  a  straight  story  out  of  me,  tell  me 
who  and  what  you  are,"  replied  tlie  prisoner,  in  a 
calm  voice.  "If  you  do  not  choose  to  do  that,  l)ang 
away.  I  exjDect  to  lose  my  life  in  the  service,  but  I 
would  rather  die  in  battle  than  be  shot  by  my  own 
friends." 

"I  admire  your  pluck,"  said  the  colonel,  who 
knew  a  brave  man  when  he  saw  him,  "  and  I  really 
wish  I  could  believe  you  to  be  a  friend.  Fortunatel}'', 
we  are  not  ashamed  of  ourselves,  and  I  don't  mind 
satisfying  your  curiosity.  There  is  my  leave  of  ab- 
sence for  thirty  days.  Do  you  see  any  signature 
upon  it  that  3'ou  recognize  ?" 

"  I  do,"  answered  the  prisoner,  "  and  if  you  will 
let  me  take  my  hands  doAvn  for  just  one  minute,  I 
will  show  you  a  paper  that  bears  the  same  name." 

The  colonel  nodded  assent,  and  the  prisoner  began 
fumbling  wdth  one  of  the  buttons  on  his  jacket.  It 
was  a  hollow  button,  made  on  purjjose  for  men  who 
followed  his  perilous  line  of  duty.  He  unscrewed 
the  top,  and  took  from  it  a  very  thin  piece  of  paper, 
on  w^hicli  appeared  these  words: 
C.  S.  Bolden  is  a  Confederate  spy. 

Below  them  was  written  the  name  of  a  noted  rebel 
general. 


MOVING  UPON  THE  HIDE  OUT.  105 

"  Now,  I  am  surprised,  as  well  as  couviucecl  that 
you  are  a  friend,"  said  the  colonel,  picking  u^)  the 
revolver  and  politely  restoring  it  to  its  owner.  "  We 
have  often  heard  of  3^ou  up  in  Tennessee,  bat  wo 
never  had  the  good  fortune  to  set  eyes  on  you  be- 
fore. Sit  down.  Of  course  you  will  not  object  to  a 
few  questions  ?" 

"  Certainly  not.  But  perhaps  I  could  do  better 
talking  if  you  Avould  give  me  a  bite  to  eat.  You 
see,  T  am  masquerading  as  an  escaped  j^risoner,  and 
of  course  it  wouldn't  look  well  for  me  to  go  about 
with  a  supply  of  jirovender  in  my  canoe.  I  haven't 
eaten  anything  since  I  set  out  early  this  morning." 

Captain  Griffin  nodded  to  Ike,  who  at  once  began 
to  bestir  himself  about  the  fire,  while  the  colonel  be- 
gan questioning  the  gaest,  with  a  view  to  finding 
out  how  much  he  knew  about  the  army  to  which  he 
professed  to  belong.  The  sequel  proved  that  he 
knew  all  about  it;  and  he  was  so  prompt  in  giving 
answers,  and  went  so  fully  into  the  details  of  certain 
secret  movements  with  which  no  one  excej)t  those 
who  were  high  in  authority  could  by  any  possibility 
become  acquainted,  that  the  colonel  soon  expressed 
himself  as  satisfied. 

"  Now,  before  I  tell  you  my  story,  I  should  like  to 
ask  your  young  man  one  question,"  said  the  spy, 
nodding  at  Ike,  who  straightened  up,  rested  his 
hands  upon  his  hips,  and  requested  him  to  "bang 
away."  "It is  this,"  continued  the  stranger.  "Why 
did  you  tell  me  that  your  name  was  Luke  Bennett? 
You  could  have  had  no  means  of  knowing  that  he 
was  the  very  bo}^  I  wanted  to  find." 

"  Course  not,"  rex^lied  Ike;  "but  you  see  I've  been 
through  a  heap  of  fights,  countin'  in  Fort  Henry  and 
Donelson,  an'  I've  done  a  power  of  shootin'  an'  killed 
whole  i^iles  of  Yanks.  I  did  think  that  mebbe  the 
folks  in  Vicksburg  had  heard  of  my  doin's,  an'  I  was 


106  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

afearecl  that  if  I  told  j^ou  what  mj^  name  was,  you'd 
git  scart  and  run  off  afore  the  kurn  could  see  you." 

Ike's  hearers  were  profoundly  astonished  at  this 
answer,  and  some  of  them  showed  a  great  desire  to 
laugh  at  it.  The  truth  was,  Ike  W8,s  so  overwhelmed 
with  a  sense  of  the  responsibility  that  the  colonel 
had  put  upon  him,  that  ho  forgot  his  own  name,  and 
gave  the  first  one  that  came  into  his  mind. 

"Well,  it  served  your  purpose,  and  drew  me  into 
a  trap  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  in  if  I  were  what  I  said 
I  was,"  replied  the  spy.  "  As  it  has  turned  out,  I  am 
more  than  satisfied,  for  I  shall  have  help  to  carry 
out  my  plans." 

"  You  gave  your  name  as  Proctor,"  said  Cajitain 
Griffin.  "  Is  there  such  a  man  in  the  Federal  ser- 
vice r 

Tb<^  si)y  answered  that  there  was,  and  this  brought 
him  at  once  to  his  story,  which  I  will  give  in  my 
own  words. 

I  must  begin  by  saying  that  this  man  Proctor, 
whose  name  Captain  Belden  had  assumed,  was  one 
of  the  most  singular  characters  that  any  war  ever 
produced.  On  the  pay  rolls  of  Graiit's  army  he  aj)- 
peared  by  the  name  I  have  given  (whether  it  was 
his  real  name  or  not  I  do  not  know  to  this  day),  as 
a  captain  of  cavalry;  while  in  the  Confederate  Gen- 
eral Chalmers's  army  he  went  by  the  name  of  Pollard, 
and  drew  pay  as  major  of  infantry.  His  Confederate 
friends  would  have  been  willing  to  stake  their  Jives 
on  his  loj-alty  to  the  South,  and  when  Van  Dorn  had 
him  arrested  because  one  of  his  well  j^lanned  expe- 
ditions had  failed  miserably,  there  was  a  general 
howl  of  indignation.  Van  Dorn  Avas  sure  that  he 
had  evidence  enough  to  hang  him,  but  when  ho 
came  to  look  for  it,  he  couldn't  find  it;  so  he  for- 
warded him  to  Pemberton,  for  whom  he  had  done 
considerable  scouting, 


MOVING  UPON  THE  HIDE  OUT.  107 

Captain  Belden  then  went  on  to  say  that  he  was 
present  when  Pollard  was  brought  before  the 
general,  in  company  with  a  long  letter  of  exj^lana- 
nation  from  Van  Dorn,  and  that  he  was  angry  as 
well  as  surprised  to  learn  that  one  of  his  most  valued 
and  trusty  men  had  fallen  under  suspicion.  He  de- 
clared that  he  knew  him  to  be  Major  Pollard,  and 
nobody  else,  but  ordered  him  into  the  guard  house 
until  he  could  find  time  to  look  into  his  case. 

Captain  Belden  said  he  did  not  know  what  i)ut  it 
into  his  head,  but  from  the  very  first  something  told 
him  that  Pollard,  the  dashing  cavalry  leader  and 
Confederate  spj,  and  Proctor,  the  infamous  Union 
spy,  whom  everybody  had  tried  to  kill  and  couldn't, 
were  one  and  the  same;  but  when  the  captain  com- 
municated his  suspicions  to  General  Pemberton,  that 
ofiicer  was  so  mad  that  he  ordered  him  out  of  his 
presence. 

"  But  ivas  it  Proctor  ?  "  exclaimed  the  colonel,  who 
was  so  imj^atient  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  the  mystery 
that  he  could  not  wait  for  Captain  Belden  to  tell  his 
story  in  his  own  way. 

"  Of  course  it  was,  and  I  was  the  only  one  who 
suspected  it,"  was  the  reply.  "  After  Pemberton 
ordered  me  to  clear  out  and  never  darken  his  doors 
again,  I  went  home  and  wrote  out  a  j^lan,  which  I 
submitted  to  him  the  next  da}^  after  he  had  had  time 
to  get  good  natured.  He  approved  of  it,  because 
he  believed  I  would  have  my  trouble  for  my  pains, 
and  told  me  to  go  to  work. 

"  The  first  thing  I  did  was  to  have  Proctor  trans- 
ferred from  the  guard  house  to  a  ricketj^  old  build- 
ing on  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  and  my  next  to  have 
men  of  well  known  Union  sentiments  detailed  for 
his  guards.  They  were  told  to  keep  a  close  watch 
over  their  prisoner,  for  he  Avas  a  notorious  Union  sjDy, 
a  desperado  besides,  and  he  would  be  sure  to  at- 


108  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

tern})!  escape,  if  tliej  gave  him  the  least  chance.  I 
also  put  other  AvatclierB  over  him,  that  neither  Proc- 
tor nor  his  guards  knew  anything  about — tried  and 
trnsted  men,  Confederate  to  tlie  l)ackbone,  who  were 
stationed  in  an  adjoining  room  to  listen  to,  and  make 
a  note  of,  every  word  that  passed  between  the 
prisoner  and  the  sentries.  The  plan  worked  admir- 
ably, and  in  less  than  twenty  eight  hours  I  presented 
myself  before  Pemberton  with  a  mass  of  evidence 
that  almost  made  him  gasp  for  breath." 

"  Proctor  began  trying  his  arts  n])on  the  sentries 
at  once,  I  su])pose  V  "  said  Captain  Gj-itlin. 

''  Yes,  and  they  gave  him  all  the  aid  and  comfort 
they  coidd.  They  told  him  about  their  boys  who 
were  hiding  in  the  swamj^  to  keej)  from  getting  into 
the  army,  directed  him  how  to  go  to  find  their  i)laco 
of  concealment,  told  him  Avliat  the  signal  was,  and 
also  gave  him  a  piece  of  information  of  which  I  was 
very  glad  to  get  hold." 

When  Ike  Bishoj)  heard  this,lie  straightened  nj:)  and 
began  to  look  wild.  The  colonel,  wlio  knew  what 
question  he  would  ask  if  he  were  allowed  to  si)eak, 
scrowled  liercely  at  him,  but  for  once  his  black  looks 
had  no  effect  upon  Ike.  The  latter  was  harassed 
by  a  terrible  fear,  which  he  w^anted  set  at  rest  at 
once. 

"  "  It  wasn't — it  wasn't — was  it  about  the  money  ?  '* 
he  faltered. 

"  Money  ?  "  repeated  Captain  Belden.  "  What 
money?  " 

"  Why,  there's  an  absurd  story  going  the  rounds 
of  the  settlement,  that  all  those  Union  men  have 
fabulous  treasures  concealed  somewhere  in  this 
swamp,"  said  Colonel  St.  Clair,  in  a  tone  which 
seemed  to  say  that  he  had  no  patience  with  one  who 
could  put  any  faith  in  such  a  re])ort. 

"  No,  they  didn't  say  anything   about  that,  and  I 


MOVING  UPON  THE  HIDE  OUT.  109 

shouldn't  have  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  it  if 
they  had.  I  have  heard  of  such  things  before,  and 
have  wasted  valuable  time  in  looking  for  buried 
treasure,  but  I  never  found  any,"  answered  Captain 
Belden.  "The  information  I  was  glad  to  get  hold  of 
was  this  :  We  have  lost  a  good  many  j^eople  by 
desertion  lately,  and  Bennett  told  Proctor  that  these 
boys  had  helped  every  one  of  those  deserters  on  to 
their  homes.  It  seems  they  have  established  an 
underground  railroad  through  there,  and  my  j^i'iu- 
cipal  object  in  coming  out  and  passing  myself  off  for 
Proctor,  is  to  find  out  right  where  that  railroad  is 
located,  so  that  I  can  come  back  with  a  squad  of 
men  and  break  it  up.  But  if  you  gentlemen  will 
give  me  the  help  I  need,  the  business  can  be  done  at 
once,  this  very  night." 

"  Hey  yoop !  "  shouted  Ike,  who  was  eager  to  get 
ready  without  a  moment's  delay.  "Say,  mister, 
when  we  ketch  them  fellers,  you  will  give  me  leave 
to  give  Luke  a  good  j)unchin'  to  pay  him  for  the 
lickin'  he  give  me  when  the  war  first  come  to  this 
country,  won't  you?  But  how  about  my  six 
thousand  dollars  ?  "  he  added  to  himself.  "  Will  this 
new  capting,  who  has  come  here  without  nobody 
askin'  him,  want  some  of  it  ?  " 

When  this  question  suggested  itself  to  Ike's  mind, 
his  enthusiasm  subsided  on  the  instant. 

"  Unless  I  have  lost  my  bearings — and  I  am  not 
in  the  habit  of  doing  that — I  venture  to  assure  you 
that  Luke  Bennett's  hide  out  is  within  rifle  shot  of 
this  camp,"  continued  Captain  Belden.  "  Pollard,  or 
Proctor  as  I  ought  to  call  him,  was  given  points  and 
distances  in  black  and  white,  and  I  studied  them 
until  I  made  myself  master  of  them.  He  hadn't 
been  confined  in  that  building  more  than  three 
days  before  he  began  laying  his  plans  to  escape,  as 
I  knew  he  would,  and  Bennett  and  his  four  friends 


110  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

gave  liim  all  the  help  they  could,  which  was  just 
what  I  exjoected.  Tliey  gave  him  a  part  of  their 
provisions  ever}'  day,  furnished  him  with  a  rope  to 
let  himself  down  from  the  window,  and  when  every- 
thing? was  ready,  Proctor  slipped  down  and  out." 

"  An'  you  uns  let  him  go  ?"  exclaimed  Ike,  in  great 
excitement.  "Dog  gone  sich  away  of  doin',  any- 
how !" 

"We  didn't  let  him  go  any  farther  thaii  we  wanted 
him  to  go,"  answered  Captain  Belden,  with  a  smile. 
"Before  he  had  gone  two  liundred  jards  he  was 
quietly  surrounded,  all  the  letters  that  had  l)een  in- 
trusted to  him,  as  well  as  the  wea2:)ons  with  Avhich 
he  had  been  2:)r(jvided,  were  taken  away  from  him, 
and  he  was  marched  off  to  jail  and  put  in  irons.  At 
the  same  time  two  or  three  details  of  men,  who  had 
been  ordered  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness  for 
that  particular  puipose,  took  Bennett  and  liis  four 
friends  in  out  of  the  wet." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Luke  Bennett's  pap,  an' 
Joe  Ramsay's,  an'  Frank  Barron's,  is  shet  up,  too  ?" 
Ike  almost  shouted,  jumping  to  his  feet  and  kicking 
over  the  cup  of  parched  corn  coffee  which  he  had 
prepared  for  tlie  guest. 

"That's  what  I  mean,"  replied  the  captain. 

"I'll  very  soon  have  another  cup  leady  for  you, 
mister,"  said  Ike,  apologetically,  "but  that's  the  best 
piece  of  news  I  have  beared  seiice  I  C(mie  from  up 
country.  Luke  Bennett's  i)ap  is  locked  up  !  Hey 
yoop  !     Will  they  hang  him?" 

"  They  ought  to,"  answered  the  colonel. 

"Course  they  oughter,"  exclaimed  Ike,  giving  ilie 
bacon  in  the  frying  pan  a  vicious  sliake.  "But  even 
if  tliey  do,  that  won't  settle  my  leetle  bill  with  Luke 
Bennett.  He's  got  to  be  whoj)i)ed  afore  him  an' 
me'll  be  square  on  the  books." 

"  Of  course  I  took  the  letters  directly  to   head- 


MOVING  UPON  THE  HIDE  OUT,  111 

quarters,  where  they  were  opened  and  read,"  said 
Captain  Belden,  in  conclusion.  "After  that  they 
were  carefully  sealed  up  again,  and  I  started  out  to 
find  and  break  up  that  undergTOund  railroad. 

"  Now,  if  I  were  in  your  jDlace,  colonel,  I  wouldn't 
tear  those  letters  open  again  until  this  business  has 
been  settled.  It  may  be  necessary  for  me  to  go 
into  their  camp  in  order  to  find  out  everything 
about  them  and  their  surroundings  that  I  want  to 
know,  and  if  they  see  that  thf.ir  letters  have  been 
tampered  with,  they  will  suspect  me  at  once,  provided 
they  are  the  sharp  fellows  I  take  them  for;  and  I  am 
of  the  opinion  that  my  life  would  not  be  worth  a 
moment's  2^ur chase." 

"  They  ain't  sharj^  at  all,  an'  you  needn't  be 
afeared  of  'em,  nuther,"  said  Ike,  who  could  not  bear 
to  hear  the  least  thing  said  in  favor  of  the  hoja  he 
so  cordially  hated.  "  They're  cowards,  the  whole  lot 
of  'em." 

"  But  even  a  coward  may  be  able  to  send  a  bullet 
with  a  true  aim,"  said  the  colonel,  "  and  the  captain 
is  wise  in  taking  every  i^recaution  to  avoid  exciting 
their  suspicions.  As  they  are  well  acquainted  with 
every  member  of  our  party,  we  shall  have  to  keej) 
out  of  sight  until  the  time  for  action  arrives,"  he 
added,  passing  the  letters  back  to  the  captain. 
"Now,  while  you  are  eating  the  supper,  which  I  see 
Ike  has  got  ready  for  you  at  last,  suppose  you  tell 
us  what  your  plans  are,  so  that  we  may  know  just 
how  to  act." 

The  captain  replied  that  he  had  no  plans  beyond 
those  of  which  he  had  alread}"  spoken.  His  inten- 
tion was  to  gain  admittance  to  Luke's  hide  out  by 
passing  himself  off  for  Proctor  the  Union  spy  (the 
letters  he  had  in  his  possession,  one  of  which  was 
written  for  the  use  of  the  real  Proctor,  would  aid 
him  in  accomplishing  that  object);  ascertain  exactly 


112  ,  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

where  the  hide  out  was  located,  so  that  he  could 
find  it  again  at  any  time;  pry  into  as  many  of  the 
boys'  secrets  as  he  could,  and  learn  what  means  they 
had  of  defending  themselves  in  case  they  were  at- 
tacked; and,  after  getting  all  the  information  he 
could,  and  throwing  the  boys  off  his  track  by  inquir- 
ing the  shortest  route  to  the  river,  he  would  bid 
them  good  by,  and  start  for  Vicksburg  by  a  round- 
about way. 

"  I  don't  suppose  that  Luke  or  any  of  his  friends 
ever  heard  of  Proctor,"  said  the  captain,  taking  a 
sip  of  the  scalding  hot  decoction  that  Ike  Bishop 
called  coffee,  "  but  still " 

"  Perhaj^s  they  never  did  hear  of  him,"  interrupted 
the  colonel,  "but  it's  just  possible  that  the  Yank 
that  old  Sam  picked  up  this  morning,  and  whom  we 
believe  to  be  a  gunboat  officer,  may  know  who  he 
is." 

The  captain  looked  his  surprise,  and  Colonel  St. 
Clair  went  on  to  tell  that  they  had  seen  the  negro 
scooting  through  the  swamp  that  morning  with  a 
Yankee  close  in  his  wake,  and  that  both  had  suc- 
ceeded in  making  good  their  escai:)e,  in  spite  of  the 
shower  of  bullets  and  buckshot  that  had  been  sent 
about  their  ears. 

"  That  i^uts  a  different  look  on  the  matter.  Proc- 
tor has   been  aboard  nearly  every   gunboat  in  the 

fleet,  and  if  that  officer  has  ever  seen  him You 

think  that  nigger  took  him  to  Luke's  hide  out,  and 
that  he  is  there  yet,  don't  you  ?  Well,  if  that  officer 
has  ever  seen  the  real  Proctor,  this  will  be  the  last 
piece  of  work  I  shall  ever  do  for  the  Confederacy," 
said  Captain  Belden,  shutting  one  eye,  and  gazing 
thoughtfully  with  the  other  into  his  cup  of  coffee. 
He  little  dreamt  liow  prophetic  were  these  words  of 
the  fate  that  was  to  lu'fall  him  before  the  rays  of  the 
next  morning's  suu  illuminated  the  dark  recesses  of 


MOVING  UPON  THE  HIDE  OUT.  113 

the  swam  JO.  "Sometliing  told  me  tliat  this  was  go- 
ing to  be  a  ticklish  job,  and  now  I  am  sure  of  it. 
I've  got  to  run  a  bigger  risk  than   I  bargained  for." 

"  Wal,  then,  why  don't  you  back  outen  it  afore  you 
go   any  furder?"  inquired  Ike. 

The  look  of  indignant  contempt  which  he  received 
in  reply  was  so  overwhelming  that  Ike  wilted  under 
it,  and  sat  down  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire  out 
of  sight.  Captain  Belden's  suj^erior  officer  had  told 
him  what  to  do,  and,  like  the  brave  man  he  was,  the 
captain  intended  to  do  it,  if  he  lived  long  enough. 

"  If  those  are  your  plans,  I  don't  see  how  we  are 
going  to  help  you,  except  in  one  way,"  observed  the 
colonel.  "  We  will  make  a  start  as  soon  as  you  have 
finished  your  supper,  and  if  you  will  burn  a  match 
now  and  then,  so  that  we  can  keep  track  of  you,  we 
will  be  within  range,  and  hold  ourselves  ready  to 
shoot  the  first  one  who  attempts  to  do  you  injury." 

"  That's  the  only  way  you  can  help  me,"  assented 
the  captain.  "  If  I  succeed  in  getting  into  the  hide 
out,  come  back  to  your  camp,  and  await  my  return. 
"When  I  come  back,  if  I  ever  do,  I  will  know  more 
about  Luke  and  his  friends  than  I  do  now,  and  it 
will  be  but  little  trouble  for  us  to  decide  upon  a 
plan  of  attack.  If  they  see  anything  about  me  to 
arouse  their  suspicions,  why,  then  we  shall  have  to 
fall  back  in  good  order,  and  return  with  force 
enough  to  carry  everything  before  us." 

This  was  all  that  was  said  on  the  subject,  and  after 
that  they  talked  about  different  matters  altogether 
— about  everything,  in  fact,  except  the  dangerous 
mission  upon  which  they  were  so  soon  to  enter,  and 
from  which  they  were  not  likely  to  return  unscathed. 

They  conversed  in  low  and  earnest  tones, as  soldiers 
do  when  they  are  on  the  eve  of  going  into 
action,  and  for  once  Ike  Bishop  allowed  his  thoughts 
to  dwell  upon  something  besides  the  money  he  hoped 


114  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  GUT. 

to  handle  when  Luke  Bennett  was  captured,  and  the 
commission  he  expected  to  buy  with  it.  He  woukl 
not  have  shrunk  from  a  fair  fight  with  the  object  of 
his  hatred,  so  long  as  the  colonel  would  stand  by 
and  see  that  he  didn't  get  whipped,  but  this  thing 
of  sneaking  up  to  a  concealed  stronghold  in  the 
dark,  not  knowing  at  what  instant  he  might  be 
knocked  out  of  his  canoe  by  a  charge  of  buckshot — 
well,  Ike  did  not  approve  of  that  way  of  doing  busi- 
ness,  and  he  wished  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart 
that  Captain  Bel  den  had  stayed  in  Yicksburg. 

*'No\v  I  think  I  am  ready,"  said  the  latter,  shutting 
up  his  jack  knife  and  i:)utting  it  into  his  pocket, 
after  wiping  the  blade  on  the  back  of  his  boot.  "  By 
the  way,  do  you  know  of  a  place  on  Boiling  Fork 
that  goes  by  the  name  of  '  The  Arbor  ? '  " 

Colonel  St.  Clair  said  he  knew  the  spot  w^ell.  It 
was  a  short,  straight  reach  of  the  bayou,  thickly 
lined  on  both  sides  with  tall  trees,  whose  entwining 
branches  were  so  completely  covered  with  mosses 
and  climbing  plants  that  the  rays  of  the  sun  could 
scarcely  penetrate  through  them.  It  looked  more 
like  man's  work  than  Nature's,  and  that  was  what 
gave  it  its  name. 

"Well,  my  letter  of  instructions  says:  *find  the 
Arbor,  hold  a  straight  course  to  the  eastward  for 
two  miles  and  a  half,  then  give  the  signal,  and  you 
will  be  sure  to  get  an  answer.'  Now,  how  far  have 
I  strayed  out  of  my  course  ?  '* 

The  colonel  appealed  to  Ike,  who  said: 

"You've  got  a  right  smart  jump  outen  your  way — 
as  much  as  two  miles,  anyhow." 

"  We  don't  care  to  go  clear  back  to  the  Arbor,  be- 
cause it  would  take  too  much  time,"  observed  the 
colonel.  "What  wo  want  is  to  reach  some  point  in 
the  swamp  abreast  of  it,  and  start  from  there.  You 
understand  what  I  mean,  don't  you  ?  " 


MOVING  UPON  THE  HIDE  OUT.  US 

"  And  can  you  find  your  way  to  this  camp  again, 
if  we  sliould  want  to  come  back  in  tlie  dark  ?  "  in- 
quired Captain  Griffin. 

Ike  nodded  an  affirmative  to  both  these  questions, 
and  was  commanded  to  get  into  the  boat  without 
loss  of  time,  and  lead  the  wa}'.  For  an  hour  or 
more  the  canoes  kept  within  seeing  distance  of  one 
another,  and  when  Ike  stopped  and  announced  that 
he  reckoned  they  were  just  about  even  up  with  the 
Arbor,  they  drew  together  for  a  final  consultation. 
It  was  soon  over,  and  Captain  Belden  said,  as  ho 
took  his  compass  from  his  pocket  and  placed  it  on 
the  bottom  of  his  dugout: 

"  I  will  go  on  alone,  l)urning  a  match  occasionally 
to  let  you  know  where  I  am,  and  3'ou  must  be  sure 
and  Y)ui  yourselves  out  of  sight  the  moment  you  hear 
me  give  the  signal.  Those  bo3's  may  have  some  way 
of  lighting  up  the  swamp,  you  know.  Keep  me 
covered  as  well  as  you  can,  for  I  have  an  idea  that  I 
am  going  into  a  warm  place.     Good  by." 

The  captain  raised  his  hand  to  his  hat,  dipped  his 
paddle  in  the  water,  and  his  canoe  moved  away  into 
darkness  out  of  sight.  His  i)artiug  words  were  the 
last  that  the  colonel  and  his  party  ever  heard  from 
his  lips. 

In  obedience  to  the  instructions  which  Colonel  St. 
Clair  communicated  to  them  in  a  whisper,  the  rest  of 
the  squad  separated,  and  followed  silently  in  the 
direction  in  which  the  captain  had  disapj^eared,  each 
acting  on  his  own  account,  but  ready,  at  a  given 
signal,  to  rally  on  their  leader,  who  was  near  the 
center  of  the  line.  The  light  that  blazed  up  at 
regular  intervals  in  front  of  them,  glowing  brightly 
for  a  moment,  and  then  dying  away,  was  the  only 
thing  that  kept  them  from  being  lost  from  one 
another  in  the  swamp. 

At  last  the  colonel  began  telling  himself  that  it 


116  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

vfdH  high  time  the  spy  was  seein^^  some  sipfiis  of  tliat 
hide  out,  if  it  were  located  anywhere  about  there, 
for  they  had  surely  come  all  of  two  miles  since  they 
separated. 

As  it  happened  they  were  close  upon  it.  Already 
one  of  their  canoes,  or  it  might  have  been  a  paddle, 
had  touched  a  concealed  wire,  and  given  to  it  a  mo- 
tion that  had  carried  consternation  to  the  hearts  of 
four  boys,  who  were  hurrying  about  their  narrow 
quarters  on  tiptoe,  hiding  the  light  of  their  camp 
fire,  and  asking  one  another  what  enemy  it  was  that 
set  the  alarm  bells  sounding. 

Presently  the  signal  came  clear  and  distinct  to 
Colonel  St.  Clair's  ears.  "WTien  he  heard  it.  he  drew 
his  canoe  close  alongside  the  nearest  tree,  picked  up 
his  rifle,  and  rested  it  across  his  kuee. 


IKE'S  RANDOM  SHOT.  117 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ike's  random  shot. 

Having  taken  up  a  favorable  position  and  placed 
his  rifle  across  Lis  knees  in  readiness,  for  instant  use, 
Colonel  St.  Clair  looked  up  and  down  the  swamp  to 
see  where  his  companions  were,  but  could  not  locate 
a  single  one  of  them.  The  moment  they  heard  the 
signal  they  had  drawn  in  their  j)addles  and  grasjDed 
their  wea23ons,  and  they  were  now  anxiously  w^ait- 
ing  to  see  what  was  going  to  happen.  They  were 
all  highly  excited,  especially  Ike  Bishop,  who  felt  as 
he  had  often  felt  before  when  he  w^as  on  the  eve  of 
going  into  battle. 

The  w^aiting  was  worse  than  the  actual  conflict, 
and  Ike  had  to  wait  a  long  time,  almost  half  an  hour, 
before  Captain  Belden's  oft  repeated  signals  brought 
any  response  ;  and  w^hen  it  came,  it  was  in  a  way 
that  excited  Ike's  profoundest  amazement. 

"I'd  give  something  handsome  to  be  in  Cap  Bel- 
den's shoes  this  minute,  so't  I  could  see  what  sort  of 
a  place  it  is  he's  lookin'  at,"  said  Ike  to  himself,  at 
the  same  time  lowering  the  heavy  double  barrel 
which  ho  had  held  to  his  shoulder  until  his  arms 
ached.  "If  he  has  found  the  hide  out — an'  if  he 
hain't,  I  don't  see  what  he's  foolin'  around  thar  for 
— why  don't  Luke  answer  the  signal  to  let  him 
know  ?     Now,  then,  what's  that,  do  you  reckon  ?  " 

While  Ike  was  communing  thus  w4th  himself,  Ned 
Marsh  and  Sidney  Jones  were  hauling  their  canoe 


118  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

slowly  through  tho  cane  toward  the  open  sw^amp; 
and  now  the  blindin^,^  ^(lare  of  their  dark  lantern  was 
turned  full  upon  the  face  of  the  Confederate  spy. 

Ike  could  see  the  latter  very  plainly,  but  he  could 
not  see  anything  else  except  a  little  ball  of  fire,  uhich 
was  so  brilUant  that  it  dazzled  his  eyes  to  look  at  it. 
Anything  that  Ike  Bishop  could  not  acecvnt  for  was 
sure  to  frighten  him,  and  he  began  to  tremble  all 
over.  He  was  in  just  the  right  humor  to  do  some- 
thing desperate  without  knowing  a  thing  about  it. 

"Now,  what  is  that  thar,  and  wliar  did  it  come 
from,  do  you  reckon?"  continued  Ike,  looking  all 
around  in  the  hope  of  finding  some  one  to  explain 
the  matter  to  him.  "  It  looks  jest  like  an  eye  of  fire, 
don't  it '?  8h —  !  That's  somebody  thar,  sure's  you're 
born,  'cause  I  can  hear  them  talking." 

Although  Ike  listened  with  all  his  ears  he  could 
not  catch  a  single  word  of  the  conversation  that  was 
carried  on  between  the  spy  and  the  invisible  person 
who  managed  the  light,  but  he  did  hear  an  excited 
voice  exclaim: 

"  Shoot  him,  Sid  !  He's  got  friends  close  by  !  "  and 
something  told  him  that  if  that  lantern  was  not  put 
out  on  the  instant  Captain  Eelden's  life  would  be  in 
danger;  but  Ike  could  not  settle  in  his  mind  whether 
or  not  he  ought  to  shoot  at  it  without  orders.  ^Vhilo 
he  was  debating  the  point,  Cohjnel  St.  Clair  settled 
it  for  him,  by  raising  his  rifie  and  smashing  the  bull's 
eye. 

"Hey  yoop  !"  muttered  Ike,  who  took  this  as  a 
signal  to  commence  firing.  "  That's  me,  every  time  ! 
I  only  hope  it's  Luke  Bennett  that  this  charge  of 
shot  is  goin'  into,  'cause  then " 

Without  waiting  to  finish  the  sentence,  and  quite 
forgetting,  in  his  frantic  eagerness  to  do  something, 
that  he  stood  as  good  a  chance  of  killing  the  friendly 
spy  as  of  hitting  Luke  Bennett  or  one  of  his  friends, 


IKE'S  KANDOM  SHOT.  121 

Ike  raised  his  gun  and  fired  both  barrels  in  rapid 
successsion. 

Then  he  dropped  the  weapon  and  threw  himself 
flat  in  his  canoe,  in  order  to  escape  the  return  shot; 
but  he  was  much  too  slow  in  his  movements.  Sid- 
ney Jones  fired  at  the  flash,  and  some  of  the  buck- 
shot in  his  gun  must  have  found  a  lodgment  some- 
where in  Ike  Bishop's  body,  for  the  howls  he 
straightway  set  up  were  wonderful  to  hear.  They 
frightened  his  comj)anions,  who  gathered  about  him 
without  loss  of  time. 

"  Are  you  hit,  Ike  ? "  inquired  the  colonel 
anxiously. 

"  Course  I  be,"  replied  the  boy,  in  an  injured  tone. 
"  Think  I'm  whooj)in'  this  a  wa}^  for  fun  ?  " 

"  Whereabouts  are  you  hurt  ?  " 

"All  over,  dog  gone  the  luck.  I'm  killed.  I 
won't  never  get  my  six  thousand  dollars,  an'  no  star 
to  put  onto  my  collar,  nuther.  I  never  did  have 
good  luck  in  this  here  world,  anyhow." 

The  colonel,  who  dared  not  strike  a  light  to  ex- 
amine Ike's  wounds,  waited  impatiently  for  the  re- 
turn of  the  spy;  but  as  the  minutes  wore  away  and 
he  did  not  come,  a  horrible  fear  seized  upon  him, 
which  he  communicated  in  a  whisper  to  his  friends, 
tlie  injured  boy  being  too  much  taken  uj)  with  his 
own  troubles  to  -paj  any  attention  to  him. 

"We  shall  never  see  Belden  again,"  said  the  col- 
onel, solemnly.  "Ike's  random  shot  put  an  end  to 
the  wrong  man." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  not,"  exclaimed  Captain  Griffin. 

"  Can  you  account  for  Belden's  absence  in  any 
other  way  ?"  asked  the  colonel.  "  The  boys  who 
handled  that  dark  lantern,  whoever  they  were,  only 
fired  once,  and  that  charge  couldn't  have  touched 
Captain  Belden,  for  it  hit  Ike.  They  couldn't  have 
made  a  prisoner  of  him,  for  Belden  would  die  be- 


122  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HmE  OUT. 

fore  he  would  let  them  do  that.  I  broke  the  lantern 
on  purpose,  to  ^i\e  him  a  chance  to  escaj^c;  and  if 
Ike's  shot  had  not  killed  or  disabled  him,  he  would 
have  been  prompt  to  take  advantage  of  my  diversion 
in  his  favor." 

In  sjiite  of  the  colonel's  i:)ositive  language,  he 
clung  to  the  hoi:)e  that  the  spy  had  been  able  to  slip 
away  from  the  boys,  in  the  darkness,  and  bo  did  his 
companions;  but  as  the  minutes  wore  on  and  he  did 
not  appear,  they  were  reluctantly  obliged  to  confess 
that  something  must  have  happened  to  him.  The 
spy  knew  exactly  where  he  had  left  Colonel  St.  Clair 
and  his  party  when  he  started  on  alone  to  find  the 
hide  out,  and,  if  he  were  able  to  come  back  to  them, 
what  was  the  reason  he  did  not  do  it  ? 

"  Poor  fellow !"  said  the  colonel,  with  a  sigh  of  re- 
gret. "  He  said  he  exj^ected  to  die  in  the  service, 
but  he  didn't  want  to  be  shot  by  his  friends.  "We 
can  do  nothing  here,  and  we  might  as  well  return  to 
camp.  We  know  where  Luke  Bennett's  hide  out  is, 
and  the  next  time  we  visit  it  we  will  have  force 
enough  at  our  backs  to  take  it  by  storm.  I  wish  now 
that  I  had  read  those  letters." 

"  It  seems  cowardly  to  go  away  without  making  an 
attempt  to  find  our  friend  Belden,"  said  Captain 
Griffin,  as  he  made  the  painter  of  Ike's  canoe  fast  to 
the  stern  of  his  own,  "  but  I  don't  see  what  else  we 
can  do.  Luke  and  his  friends  are  on  the  alert,  and 
it  will  l)e  sure  death  to  the  man  who  shows  himself 
to  them." 

While  on  their  way  to  the  camp,  the  colonel  and 
his  three  friends  were  very  silent  and  thoughtful, 
while  Ike  moaned  continually,  and  thrashed  about 
in  his  canoe  at  such  a  rate,  that  the  rest  of  the 
party  began  to  fear  that  his  injuries  might  j^rove  to 
be  something  serious;  but  when  tliey  got  him  to  the 
fire  and  took  a  good  look  at  him,  their  sympathy 


IKE'S  RANDOM  SHOT.  123 

gave  place  to  anger  and  contempt.  There  were  two 
or  three  buckshot  in  his  cheek,  and  as  many  more  in 
his  arm;  but  they  didn't  see  that  that  was  any  rea- 
son why  he  should  keep  up  such  a  constant  groan- 
ing. They  had  seen  men  with  their  arms  carried  en- 
tirely away  by  shots  and  shells,  who  did  not  make 
half  the  fuss  that  he  did. 

"  I  want  to  go  hum  to  my  mam  !"  whined  Ike;  and 
as  there  was  no  reason  to  suppose  that  he  would  be 
of  any  more  use  to  the  party,  either  as  guide  or 
cook,  the  colonel  assured  him  that  he  should  go 
there  as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough  for  them  to  find 
the  way. 

They  had  little  expected  to  go  back  in  this  sorry 
fashion — disajipointed,  and  whipped  by  the  boys 
they  had  hoped  to  rob — and  there  was  not  one 
among  them  who  did  not  wish  that  they  had  devoted 
their  time  to  hunting  meat  for  their  families,  and 
had  let  Luke  Bennett  and  his  comj)anions  alone. 

"  We  have  been  repulsed,  but  we  are  not  beaten 
yet,"  said  the  colonel,  when  Caj^tain  Griffin  gave  ut- 
terance to  these  sentiments.  "We  have  evidence 
enough  to  hang  Bennett  and  his  fellow  conscripts, 
and  as  soon  as  I  get  home,  I  will  write  him  a  letter, 
telling  him  that  if  he  will  reveal  the  hiding  place  of 
his  money,  so  that  we  can  have  it  for  the  support  of 
our  families  while  we  are  in  the  army,  fighting-  for 
the  South,  we  will  say  nothing  about  the  way  in 
which  Captain  Belden  met  his  death.  If  he  won't 
do  that,  we  will  lay  a  full  history  of  the  matter  be- 
fore Pemberton.  I  think  that  will  open  Bennett's 
eyes  and  loosen  his  tongue;  for,  if  Pemberton  sends 
a  company  of  men  over  here,  they  will  come  with 
orders  to  take  Luke  dead  or  alive,  and  to  destroy 
the  property  of  every  Union  man  in  the  settle- 
ment." 

There  was  a  loud  groan  from  Ike,  who  did  not  at 


124  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HmE  OUT. 

all  approve  of  this  way  of  doing.  If  a  company  of 
men  came  over  from  Viclrsburf^"  to  avenge  tlie  death 
of  the  spy,  they  would  he  sure  to  nnearth  the  liidden 
treasure  (Ike  labored  under  the  delusion  tliat  all 
they  had  to  do  was  to  turn  the  liide  ou^upside  down 
in  order  to  find  it),  and  then  what  would  become  of 
his  six  thousand  dollars  ? 

This  question  excited  a  serious  train  of  reflections 
in  Ike  Bishop's  mind  ;  and  while  the  rest  of  the  i>arty 
sat  around  the  fire,  thinking  about  the  spy  who  had 
been  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  snatched  from 
their  midst,  Ike,  all  unconscious  of  the  mischief  he 
had  done,  lay  uj^on  his  bed  of  boughs  and  planned 
for  the  future. 

"  I  can't  go  back  to  the  army  when  my  furlong's 
over, 'cause  I'm  wounded,"  said  he  to  himself, ''so 
I'll  steer  cl'ar  of  the  kurn  when  I  get  hum,  an'  strike 
hands  with  Cap  Eyder  an'  the  rest  of  them  fellers. 
I  know  whar  the  hide  out  is,  an'  they  don't ;  an'  111 
tell  them  that  if  they  want  me  to  show  it  to  'em,  they 
must  plank  down  ten  thousand  dollars  the  minute  we 
find  the  money.  By  jinks,  that's  jest  what  I'll  do, 
sure's  you  are  born  !  He's  more  on  the  blow  than 
he  is  on  the  do,  Ryder  is  ;  but  I  reckon  I  can  jDut  a 
little  life  into  him." 

There  was  not  much  sleejung  done  in  the  camj:) 
that  night,  and  all  of  them  felt  relieved  when  day- 
light came,  and  the  hasty  breakfast  that  Captain 
Griftin  prepared  had  been  disposed  of. 

By  this  time  Ike  Bishop  had  so  far  recovered  his 
strength  that  he  was  able  to  sit  up  in  his  canoe  and 
guide  the  part}'  back  to  the  spot  from  which  they 
had  set  out  on  their  hunt  two  days  before.  He  was 
by  no  means  as  badly  hurt  as  he  i:)retended  to  be, 
and  it  is  doubtful  if  any  army  surgeon  would  have 
excused  him  from  dut}'  for  a  single  hour;  but  he 
assumed  a  very  pitiful   expression   of  countenance, 


IKE'S  BANDOM  SHOT.  125 

nursed  liis  wounded  arm  tenderly,  and  repeatedly 
declared  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  go  back  to 
active  service  for  at  least  three  months  to  come. 

Finally  the  colonel  took  the  hint,  and  said,  impa- 
tiently : 

"  Well,  Ike,  if  you  are  not  any  better  when  I  go 
back,  I  will  see  3'our  commanding  officer  and  ask  him 
to  have  your  leave  extended.  Now,  keep  still,  and 
let  us  have  a  little  peace." 

Having  gained  his  point,  Ike  could  afford  to  keep 
still.  No  one  heard  a  word  of  comjolaint  from  him 
after  that. 

A  little  while  before  dark,  the  party  ran  the  bows 
of  their  canoes  upon  the  shore  at  the  back  end  of 
the  old  cotton  field,  and  at  once  prepared  to  disem- 
bark. Ike  caught  up  his  gun  and  started  post 
haste  for  the  house,  to  tell  his  confiding  mother 
some  wonderful  story  about  the  terrible  battle  he 
had  passed  through  the  night  before,  while  the 
others  lingered  to  unload  the  canoes. 

The  supplies,  of  which  they  had  consumed  but  a 
small  portion  during  their  short  absence,  were  piled 
under  the  trees  to  await  the  coming  of  the  wagon 
which  Colonel  St.  Clair  intended  to  send  after  them 
as  soon  as  he  reached  home.  This  clone,  they  went 
up  to  the  house,  caught  and  saddled  their  horses, 
which  they  had  left  in  one  of  Ike  Bishop's  lots,  and 
rode  off  down  the  lane. 

It  was  pitch  dark  by  this  time,  and  they  were  glad 
of  it,  for  there  was  no  one  abroad  to  ask  them  dis- 
agreeal^le  questions  about  their  hunt.  They  felt  a 
good  deal  as  Eyder  and  his  guerrillas  did  after  they 
had  wrecked  the  houses  of  all  the  Union  men  in  the 
settlement  without  finding  the  money  of  which  they 
were  in  search. 


126  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTEK  XVn. 

THE      HOLLOW      BUTTON. 

Let  us  now  return  to  Ned  Marsh  and  Sidney  Jones, 
whom  we  left  in  the  dark  a  short  time  ago,  theii 
lantern  having  been  extinguished  by  a  bullet  from 
Colonel  St.  Clair's  rifle. 

Taken  by  surprise  as  they  were,  the  boys  did  not 
lose  their  presence  of  mind.  Sidney  did  not  shoot 
the  sjiy,  as  he  could  have  done  very  easily,  and  he 
would  have  looked  U2)on  such  a  proceeding  as  little 
short  of  deliberate  murder.  He  simply  kept  him 
covered  w-ith  his  double  barrel,  w^hile  Ned  dropped 
the  remains  of  his  lantern  overboard,  caught  up  the 
paddle  and  made  all  haste  to  back  the  canoe  into 
the  cane. 

His  lu'ompt  action  put  him  and  his  companion  out 
of  harm's  way,  but  it  was  fatal  to  the  spy.  A  second 
later  Hce  Bishop's  blunderbuss  roared,  and  the  man 
wdio  had  come  so  near  l^etraying  Luke  Bennett  and 
his  friends  into  the  hands  of  their  enemies  gave  one 
groan  and  sank  back  upon  the  bottom  of  his  canoe 
dead. 

"Fire  at  the  flash,"  whispered  Ned  Marsh,  who 
was  quick  to  comprehend  the  situation.  "  It  may 
drive  them  back  if  they  are  advancing  upon  us." 

Sidney  acted  upon  the  suggestion.  He  did  not  ex- 
pect to  accomplish  anything  by  it,  but  the  doleful 
howls  that  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  swamp  a  moment 


THE  HOLLOW  BUTTON.  127 

later  made  the  cold  chills  creep  all  over  him,  and  told 
him  that  some  of  the  buckshot  in  his  gun  had  flown 
closer  to  the  mark  than  he  wished  they  had. 

"  I  declare,  I  have  hit  Ike  Bishop !  "  exclaimed 
poor  Sidney,  who  felt  as  if  he  had  done  something 
for  which  he  never  would  be  forgiven.  "  I  w^ould 
know  his  voice  among  a  thousand." 

"  Well,  don't  worry  over  it,"  said  Ned,  encourag- 
ingly. "  You  haven't  hurt  him  at  all,  or  he  wouldn't 
yell  in  that  fashion.  Think  of  what  he  was  trying 
to  do  to  you  and  the  rest  of  us.  Now,  when  I  run 
alongside  that  canoe,  you  stand  by  to  catcli  hold  of 
it,  and  we'll  tow  it  to  camp.  If  that  sj^y,  or  what- 
ever he  was,  had  any  documents  in  his  possession, 
it  may  be  to  our  interest  to  take  a  look  at  them." 

The  outline  of  the  sj^y's  canoe  could  be  dimly  seen 
through  the  darkness,  and  it  was  the  work  of  but  a 
few  seconds  for  Ned  to  paddle  up  within  reach  of 
it.     The  occupant  lay  motionless  on  the  bottom. 

"  I  am  glad  that  I  am  in  no  way  to  blame  for  this," 
said  Sidney,  with  a  shudder.  "It's  horrible,  isn't 
it?" 

"Well— yes,"  replied  the  practical  Ned.  "But 
after  you  have  seen  as  many  men  killed  in  action  as 
I  have,  jo\i  will  get  used  to  it.  This  is  no  time  for 
sentiment.  We  want  to  get  under  cover  before  they 
open  fire  on  us  again.  Take  the  paddle  and  find 
the  way  back  to  camp,  if  you  can,  and  I  will  hold 
fast  to  the  canoe." 

Sidney  had  no  difficulty  in  discovering  the  pass- 
age that  led  through  the  ''cane  to  the  hide  out,  and 
before  he  had  pulled  the  canoes  very  far  into  it,  he 
heard  a  voice  close  in  front  of  him  say,  in  low  and 
earnest  tones: 

"  Who  is  it  ?     Speak  quick  !" 

"  It  is  I,  Tom,"  replied  Sidney.  "  What  are  Fdu 
doing  out  here  ?" 


t58  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  AVe  came  out  to  take  a  hand  in  the  fight,'*  was 
the  reply.  "What  are  you  shooting  at?  Who  was 
hurt,  and  who  gave  the  signal  ?" 

"It's  a  long  story,  boys," said  Sidney,  as  he  reach- 
ed over  the  side  of  his  canoe  to  replace  one  of  the 
wires.  "  Let's  go  on  to  the  hide  out,  and  we'll  tell 
it  to  you  there.  Duckfoot  isn't  hurt,  and  neither  am 
I;  but  we  have  got  a  dead  man  in  the  canoe  astern 
of  us." 

Tom  Pike  and  his  friend  Frank  were  greatly 
alarmed  by  this  announcement,  aud  it  was  a  long 
time  before  they  could  control  themselves  sufficient- 
ly to  ask  who  he  was. 

"  We  never  saw  him  before,"  answered  Sidney, 
"but  he  meant  harm  to  us,  ail  the  same.  He  tried 
to  pass  himself  off  for  another  man;  but  Ned  told 
him  he  was  sailing  under  false  colors,  cind  that  was 
what  brought  on  the  shooting.** 

"Who  shot?"  inquired  Frank. 

"Colonel  St  Clair  and  his  party,"  replied  Sidney. 
"  Of  course  we  didn't  «ee  them,  but  I  answered  the 
shot  that  killed  the  spy,  and,  until  I  receive  con- 
vincing proof  to  the  contrary,  I  shall  believe  that  I 
hit  Ike  Bishop.  If  Ike  was  there,  Colonel  St. 
Clair  and  the  rest  of  his  crowd  were  not  far  away." 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Tom?"  exclaimed  Frank 
Barron.  "  Didn't  I  say  that  it  was  Ike  and  nobody 
else  who  was  taking  on  in  that  dreadful  way  ?  What 
damage  did  that  rifle  shot  do,  and  who  killed  the 
spy  ?" 

"  The  shot  from  the  rifle  broke  our  lantern  in 
Duckfoot's  hand,  and  we  think  it  was  Ike  Bishop's 
double  barrel  that  did  the  rest  of  tlie  damage.  Of 
course  he  meant  those  two  charges  for  us,  but 
Duckfoot  Avas  sharp  enoiigli  to  back  our  canoe 
out  of  the  way,  and  that  gave  him  lair  range  at  the 


THE  HOLLOW  BUTTON.  129 

"  But  what  induced  you  to  bring  him  in  here  ?" 
asked  Tom.  "  Why  didn't  you  leave  him  out  there 
for  his  friends  to  take  care  of  ?" 

"  He  is  past  revealing  the  secret  of  your  hiding 
place  now,"  said  Ned,  solemnly;  "and  I  think  he 
has  some  papers  on  his  person  that  you  boys  ought 
to  see.  He  said  his  name  was  Proctor,  and  then  I 
knew  he  was  a  fraud,  and  that  we'd  got  to  look  out 
for  him.  The  ringing  of  those  bells  meant  just  what 
Sid  said  it  did — treachery." 

"  Who  is  Proctor  ?"  demanded  Frank. 

"  A  noted  Union  spy,  who  has  done  no  end  of 
good  work  for  us,"  answered  Ned.  "  But  I  am  one 
of  the  few  who  have  seen  Proctor,  and  he  looks 
about  as  much  like  this  man  as  I  look  like  old  Sam. 
He  is  a  small,  stoop  shouldered,  loose  jointed,  insig- 
nificant looking  fellow,  while  the  spy  looked  every 
inch  the  soldier.  I  am  sorry  that  he  met  his  death 
in  this  way,  for  I  am  sure  that  he  was  a  splendid 
man.  Well,  he  took  his  chances,  just  as  we  all  did 
when  we  came  into  the  service,  and  they  went 
against  him.     It  may  be  my  turn  tomorrow." 

As  Sidney  had  by  this  time  replaced  all  the  wires, 
they  went  on  to  the  hide  out.  They  remained  per- 
fectly quiet  for  half  an  hour  or  more,  waiting  to  see 
what  the  colonel  and  his  party  would  do  next;  but, 
hearing  nothing  more  from  them,  the  boys  finally 
removed  the  wet  leaves  and  green  boughs,  with 
which  they  had  smothered  their  fire,  and  started  a 
little  blaze. 

"  He  said  he  had  come  over  from  Vicksburg,  and 
that  he  had  letters  from  our  friends,  did  he  ?"  said 
Tom,  when  Sidney  had  given  a  hurried  and  some- 
what disconnected  account  of  the  short  interview 
which  he  and  Ned  had  held  with  the  spy  previous 
to  the  shooting.  "Then  it's  a  lucky  thing  that 
Duckfoot  was  with  us.    He  saved  us  from  capture, 


130  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

beyond  a  doubt.  I  do  hope  there  is  no  mistcake 
about  this  business.  If  those  people  out  there  were 
friends   instead   of   enemies,  and    this    man  should 

really By  gracious,  boys,  I  don't  like  to  think 

about  it  I" 

"  Then  think  about  something  else,"  suggested 
Ned,  who  now  proceeded  to  examine  the  pockets  of 
the  dead  rebel,  while  the  others  gathered  about  the 
canoe,  which  had  been  drawn  out  upon  the  bank, 
and  gazed  sorrowfully  at  his  pallid  features.  "  We 
shall  very  soon  know  all  about  it.  Ike  made  a  cen- 
ter shot,  didn't  he  ?  Both  charges  struck  him  fair 
in  the  breast,  and  some  of  the  buttons  on  his  jacket 
are  broken  all  to  pieces.  Hal-lo  here,  what's 
this?" 

The  boys  standing  around  were  surprised  to  see 
Ned  take  his  knife  from  his  pocket  and  cut  away 
one  of  the  battered  buttons,  which  he  pried  apart 
with  the  blade.  This  being  accomjilished,  he  drew 
from  the  inside  of  it  a  small  piece  of  paper  which 
had  some  words  written  upon  it. 

"C.  S.  Belden  is  a  Confederate  spy,"  said  he, 
reading  the  words  aloud  and  passing  the  paper  over 
to  Tom.  "  That  sets  your  fears  at  rest,  does  it  not? 
This  man  was  a  rebel,  sure  enough.  Now,  let  us  see 
if  we  can  find  something  to  tell  where  he  got  that 
signal,  and  ^vhat  it  was  that  brought  him  over 
here." 

"He  set  up  a  trap  for  us  and  fell  into  it  himself; 
but  I  feel  sorry  for  liim  nil  the  same,"  said  Tom,  lit- 
tle dreaming  how  soon  liis  sorrow  would  be  turned 
into  anger,  intense  and  bitter,  against  the  man 
whom  Ike  Bishop's  random  shot  had  sent  to  his 
account.     "  Now,  then,  what  have  you  got  there  ?" 

"  I  believe  that  I  have  got  to  the  bottom  of  this 
plot,"  was  all  Ned  iMarsh  had  to  say  in  reply. 

He  ran  his  eye  hastily  over  the  big  bundle  of  let- 


THE  HOLLOW  BUTTON.  131 

ters  which  he  had  taken  from  the  inside  pocket  of 
the  spy's  jacket,  and  finally  handed  one  of  them  to 
Tom  Pike,  who  was  utterly  confounded  to  find  that 
it  was  addressed  to  himself  in  his  father's  own  fa- 
miliar handwriting.  Sidney  Jones  declared  that  the 
two  letters  that  were  given  to  him,  one  bearing  his 
own  name  and  the  other  his  mother's,  had  been  ad- 
dressed by  his  father's  hand;  and  Frank  Barron 
said  the  same  regarding  the  two  that  were  passed 
over  to  him.  They  wondered  what  the  meaning  of 
it  all  could  be,  and  looked  toward  Ned  for  an  ex- 
planation. 

"  My  idea  is  that  Proctor  has  been  caj)tured  at 
last,"  said  the  latter,  who  knew  that  the  boys  would 
not  be  satisfied  until  he  had  told  what  he  meant 
when  he  said  that  he  believed  he  had  got  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  plot.  "  In  some  way  or  other  he  made 
the  acquaintance  of  your  friends  in  Vicksburg,  who 
laid  plans  to  aid  him  in  making  his  escape;  told  him 
pretty  nearly  where  to  find  your  hide  out;  gave 
him  the  signal,  and  intri-sted  to  him  these  letters, 
which  were  to  be  delivered  to  you." 

"But  you  say  this  man  isn't  Proctor,  and  the 
paper  you  took  out  of  his  button  proves  him  to  be  a 
rebel  spy,"  exclaimed  Sidney,  who  turned  as  white 
as  a  sheet  and  trembled  all  over.  *'  How  do  you  ac- 
count for  that  ?" 

"  I  don't  like  to  tell  you  what  I  am  afraid  of,"  an- 
swered Ned,  who  saw  his  own  suspicions  and  mis- 
givings reflected  in  the  faces  of  the  boys  around 
him.     "  You  can  account  for  it  as  w^ell  as  I  can." 

"  Why,  it  can't  be  possible  that — do  you  think — do 
you  really  believe "  faltered  Tom. 

"I  do  believe  just  that,"  replied  Ned,  who  knew 
what  the  boy  was  trying  to  say.  "  In  some  way  or 
other  the  i^lot  was  discovered,  and  this  man  took 
Proctor's  place  and  lost  his  life  by  it." 


132  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"It  served  him  just  right,"  said  Tom,  who  was  so 
higlily  enraged  that  ho  scarcely  knew  what  he  was 
saying.  *'  The  plot  for  Proctor's  escape  was 
discovered,  and  of  course  our  friends  in  Vicks- 
burs " 

He  liesitated  again  and  waited  for  Ned  to  finish 
the  sentence  for  him.  The  words  lie  would  have  ut- 
tered seemed  to  stick  fast  in  his  throat. 

"  Have  got  themselves  into  serious  trouble,"  said 
the  young  officer,  knowing  that  there  was  nothing 
to  he  gained  by  trj'ing  to  smooth  the  matter  over. 
"Of  coarse,  too,  those  documents  have  all  been 
read  by  the  authorities  in  the  city " 

"Yes,  sir;  they  have,"  exclaimed  Frank  Barron, 
who  was  bending  over  the  fire  closely  examining  his 
letters.  "  Mine  have  both  been  opened,  and  stuck 
together  again  in  the  most  bungling  manner.  Just 
look  at  them." 

"  And  after  you  have  done  that,  go  into  the  hide 
out,  strike  a  light  and  read  wlmt  your  friends  have 
to  say  to  you,"  suggested  Ned.  "Probably  they 
will  make  everything  clear  to  3'ou.  You  had  better 
take  the  others  with  you.  They  belong  to  Luke  and 
Joe." 

So  saying  Ned  handed  over  the  rest  of  the  letters 
which  ho  had  taken  from  the  person  of  the  dead 
spy,  and  Avent  on  with  his  investigations  to  see  wdiat 
else  he  could  find  in  his  pockets,  while  Tom  Pike 
and  his  companions  hurried  into  the  cabin. 

With  trembling  hands  they  spread  their  letters 
upon  the  table,  after  the  candles  had  been  lighted, 
and  while  they  read  them  with  eyes  that  were  full 
of  tears,  they  often  paused  to  express  their  astonish- 
at  the  correctness  of  Ned  INlarsh's  conclusions.  Al- 
thougli  the  latter  had  nothing  to  reason  from  except 
the  outside  of  the  envelopes  which  contained  the  let- 
ters, and  the  little  piece  of  paper  he  had  taken  from 


THE  HOLLOW  BUTTON.  133 

the  spy's  button,  he  had  told  a^  straight  a  story  as 
CaiDtain  Belden  coukl  have  told  himself  if  he  had 
been  alive  at  that  moment. 

For  a  few  minutes  deep  silence  reigned  in  the 
hide  out,  broken  only  by  the  occasional  rustling  of 
a  letter  under  the  nervous  hands  of  some  excited 
reader,  and  then  Sidney  Jones  laid  his  head  upon 
the  table  and  gave  way  to  a  violent  outburst  of 
grief.  Some  brave  and  encouragiDg,  or  perliaj^s 
some  affectionate  words,  penned  by  the  father  whom 
he  might  never  see  again,  and  who  at  that  very  mo- 
ment might  be  lying  in  the  guard  house  under  sen- 
tence of  death,  were  too  much  for  the  boy  whose  pa- 
tient endurance  under  tlie  cruel  separation  had  al- 
ready been  too  severely  tested,  and  he  cried  aloud 
in  anguish  of  spirit. 

In  about  half  an  hour  Sidney  and  his  friends  came 
out  of  the  cabin,  and  joined  Ned  at  the  fire.  The 
latter  could  easily  see  that  they  were  almost  over- 
whelmed with  grief,  but,  like  the  young  heroes  they 
were,  they  strove  had  to  conceal  it. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sidney,  in  resiDonse  to  Ned's  inquiring 
look;  "it  is  just  about  as  you  thought.  Proctor  is 
a  prisoner;  our  friends  did  all  they  could  to  help 
him,  and  beyond  a  doubt  they  signed  their  own 
death  warrants  by  doing  it.  Of  course  the  letters 
are  full  of  hope  and  encouragement  for  us  here  at 
home,  because  they  were  written  before  the  plot  was 
discovered;  but  if  the  writers  could  drop  us  a  line 
now,  I  am  afraid  they  would  have  a  different  story 
to  tell.  Well,  it's  war  time,  and  we've  got  to  take 
what  the  fates  bring  us." 


134  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TUE    MEETING. 

The  sun  does  not  ofteu  bhino  upou  so  angry  and 
dispirited  a  lot  of  men  as  were  Auiou  liyder's 
guerrillas  when  they  rode  down  the  lane  toward  the 
crossroads,  which  they  called  their  headquiirters. 
They  had  wrecked  the  homes  of  all  the  Union  men 
in  the  settlement,  in  the  vain  effort  to  tind  the  money 
which  the  conscripted  owners  had  secured  and 
hidden  away  at  the  beginning  of  the  war;  and  there 
were  few  among  them  who  did  not  wish  that  they 
had  not  done  it,  and  who  did  not  tremble  when  they 
thought  of  tlie  consequences  of  their  rash  act. 

Luke  Bennett  and  his  four  friends  were  peaceable, 
order  loving  boys,  and  quiet  enough  when  they  w^ere 
let  alone;  but  they  were  perfect  tigers  when  they 
were  aroused.  And  wouldn't  they  be  thoroughly 
aroused  when  they  learned  how  their  defenseless 
mothers  had  that  day  been  treated  by  men  who  had 
never  met  with  anything  but  kindness  and  generosity 
at  their  hands,? 

"I,  fur  one,  won't  never  dar'  to  show  m^'noso  out- 
side my  own  bars  any  more  of  nights,"  said  Harry 
Wiggins,  voicing  the  sentiments  of  the  men  who 
rode  near  him.  "  I'm  kinder  sorry  we  smashed  them 
thar  planners,  'cause  thar  wasn't  r'ally  no  call  for 
sich  work." 

"  An'  I  don't  for  the  life  of  me  see  why  wo  ripped 


THE  MEETING.  135 

up  the  floors  and  broke  tlie  cheers,"  observed  another. 
"  The  money  couldn't  have  been  hid  in  no  cheers. 
"We  done  it  jest  'cause  we  got  so  dog  gone  mad  we 
couldn't  hold  in  no  longer;  an'  won't  them  boys  be 
mad,  too,  when  they  hear  of  it?  That's  what's  a 
botherin'  of  me." 

"Wal,  now,  gentle7?ie;?,  let  me  talk  to  you  uns  for 
jest  a  minute,"  drawled  Pete  Williams. 

As  he  spoke  he  thrcAv  his  leg  over  the  horn  of  his 
saddle,  and  drew  his  never  failing  cob  pipe  from  his 
pocket.  Instantly  the  eyes  of  all  the  men  in  his  im- 
mediate neighborhood  became  fastened  upon  him, 
and  those  who  Avere  riding  in  front  faced  about  and 
waited  for  him  to  speak. 

For  some  reason  or  other  Pete  was  looked  upon  as 
an  oracle  by  his  companions  in  arms,  and  his  words 
always  carried  weight  with  them.  He  filled  his  pipe 
with  great  deliberation,  borrowed  a  match  of  his  file 
leader  to  light  it,  and  then  continued  : 

*' We  uns  done  Avell  enough,  we  uns  did,  an'  I,  fur 
one,  shouldn't  by  no  means  feel  so  bad  about  it  if 
we  had  only  got  the  money." 

"  That's  good,  sound  argyment,"  assented  Wiggins, 
looking  around  upon  his  companions,  who  nodded 
their  apj)i'oval. 

"  An'  now  I  ask  you  uns,  what's  the  reason  we 
didn't  get  that  thar  money  arter  goin'  to  all  the 
trouble  we  did,  an'  puttin'  ourselves  in  the  way  of 
gettin'  shot  an'  burned  outen  house  an'  home  by 
Luke  Bennett  an'  them  friends  of  his'n  ?  I  say,  it's 
'cause  we  didn't  have  the  right  man  at  the  head  of 
us;  that's  what  I  say." 

"  An'  I  do  think  in  my  soul  that  you're  rignt, 
Pete,"  said  the  man  who  had  given  him  the  match. 
"  You're  allers  right  in  everything  you  say.  We  uns 
didn't  have  the  right  man  at  the  head  of  us  to  man- 
age things." 


13G  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

If  one  might  jiidgo  from  tbo  winks  and  nods  that 
were  exchanged  by  the  men  who  rode  in  that  i^art  of 
tlie  line,  this  was  the  conchision  to  which  all  the 
guerrillas  had  come;  but  by  what  process  of  rea- 
soning they  reached  it,  I  don't  pretend  to  know. 
Kyder  had  either  broken  or  overturned  everything 
that  came  in  his  way  during  his  frantic  search  for 
the  money,  and  how  any  commander  could  have 
done  more  than  that,  it  is  hard  to  tell.  I  do  not 
supi^ose  the  guerrillas  knew  it,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
the  fact,  that  in  casting  about  to  find  someone  uj^on 
whom  to  lay  the  blame  of  their  failure,  they  were 
following  in  the  lead  of  wiser  people  than  themselves. 

"  Them's  my  sentiments,  gentlemen,"  continued 
Pete  AVilliams,  who  was  not  a  little  elated  to  see 
that  all  the  guerrillas  within  hearing  of  his  voice 
were  disposed  to  side  with  him;  *'an'  I  say  it  is  high 
time  that  Ryder  was  kicked  outen  the  position  he 
ain't  fitten  to  hold,  an'  that  the  command  was  give 
to  the  man  who  knows  more  about  this  business  of 
sold'erin' — that's  Kazier  Bowles." 

That  was  the  name  of  Ryder's  turbulent  lieutenant 
(where  he  got  the  cognomen  of  Kaziah  I  am  sure  I 
don't  know),  who  had  long  been  expecting  his  friends 
in  the  company  to  make  a  move  in  his  favor,  and 
held  himself  in  readiness  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

"  An'  I  do  think  in  my  soul  that  you're  right," 
said  Pete's  file  leader.  "You're  allers  right  in 
everything  you  say.  We  uns  never  did  have  the 
right  man  at  the  head  of  us  to  manage  things,  an' 
I  shouldn't  wonder  a  bit  if  Bowles  would  do  better'u 
Ryder.  We  might  as  well  get  the  thing  goin'  now  as 
any  other  time,  an'  Pete,  if  you'll  do  the  talkin',  we 
uns  will  back  you  up." 

"  Look  wild  thar,  you  uns !  "  shouted  Captain 
Ryder,  who  rode  at  the  head  of  the  line.  "  Get 
pardncrs  thar,  au'  go  two  an'  two !    Now  halt !  Now 


THE  MEETING.  137 

turn  ^yourselves  around  sideways  an'  look  t'wards 
me  !  That's  about  the  idee,  an'  T  b'lieve  it's  what 
they  call  'front'  in  the  army,  ain't  it?  Wal,  the 
next  time  I  holler  '  front,  you  uns  ! '  turn  yourselves 
»  around  like  you"  be  now.  Wal,  we  uns  have  looked 
fur  the  money  an'  we  ain't  got  it." 

"No;  but  Ave've  got  five  more  enemies  nor  we  had 
this  mornin',"  exclaimed  Harry  Wiggins.  "I'm 
kinder  sorry  that  we  uns  busted  uj)  things  so  bad, 
'cause  we  didn't  make  nothing  by  it." 

"  Wal,  then,  why  didn't  them  women  trot  out  the 
money,  like  I  told  them  to  ?  "  demanded  the  captain, 
fiercely.  "  I  reckon  the  next  time  a  Conf 'd'rit  officer 
si3eaks  to  'em  they'll  pay  some  heed  to  him,  won't 
they  ?  I've  s'arched  the  houses,  like  you  uns  wanted 
me  to  do,  an'  now  what  comes  next  i" 

This  was  the  time  for  Pete  Williams;  and  after  he 
had  received  a  few  winks  and  nods  of  encouragement 
from  his  friends,  and  as  many  prods  in  the  ribs  from 
the  muzzles  of  loaded  guns,  he  mustered  up  energy 
enough  to  sj^eak  out. 

"  Look  a  yer,  capting,"  said  he,  in  his  drawling 
way,  "  I've  got  a  few  words  to  say  to  the  boys,  if  you 
don't  mind." 

"  Then  back  yourself  out  an'  come  around  here  in 
front,  an'  say  'em  like  a  man,"  replied  the  guerrilla 
Qhief,  who  at  once  became  suspicious  that  he  was 
going  to  have  a  mutiny  on  his  hands.  If  that  was 
the  case,  he  wanted  the  leader  of  it  within  reach  of 
his  arm,  so  that  he  could  knock  him  out  of  his  saddle 
at  the  first  sign  of  insubordination. 

"  No,  I  reckon  I'll  set  whar  I  am,  'cause  I  can  talk 
jest  as  well  from  hyar  as  I  can  from  out  thar,"  re- 
plied Pete.  "  The  few  words  that  I  want  to  say  to 
the  boys  is  this  year:  Be  you  uns  willin'  to  f oiler  any 
longer  in  the  lead  of  the  man  who  ain't  brung  us 
nothin'  but  bad  luck — an'  the  very  meanest  kind  of 


138  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

bad  luck  at  that — ever  senco  he  put  on  that  thar 
gray  jacket  au'  sot  himself  up  ou  that  mu-el  of  his'u 
fur  our  cap  ting  ?  That's  what  I  "want  to  ask  you 
uns." 

These  words  created  a  sensation  among  the  men, 
and  Captain  Ryder  saw  at  a  glance  that  there  was 
trouble  ahead.  He  was  not  the  man  to  surrender 
his  authority  without  a  struggle,  and  he  hoped  by 
keeping  up  a  bold  front,  and  assuming  a  courage 
and  confidence  in  himself  which  he  was  very  far  from 
feeling,  to  quell  the  mutiny  before  it  had  gone  any 
further;  but  he  very  soon  found  that  it  had  gone  so 
far  that  he  could  not  manage  it. 

"Peter  Willyings,"  said  he,  fiercely,  "if  you  had 
been  up  in  the  army  when  you  spoke  them  senti- 
ments a  minute  ago,  do  you  know  what  the  capting 
of  your  company  would  a  done  to  you  ?  "Wal,  he'd  a 
shot  you  so  dead  that  you  wouldn't  never  kick,  an' 
served  you  right,  too.  I  won't  do  it  this  time, 
'cause  I  ain't  got  my  bear  killer  with  me  ;  but  if 
you'll  come  out  hyar  in  front,  I'll  larrup  you 
till " 

"  Then  you'll  have  to  larrup  the  hul  comj^auy,  I 
tell  you,"  interrupted  Lieutenant  Bowles,  who 
thought  this  a  good  time  to  say  a  word  for  himself. 
"  Pete  don't  stand  alone,  does  he,  boys  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't  reckon  I  do,"  said  Pete,  speakin.ur  for 
himself.  "  Git  out  from  in  front  of  ms,  Mr.  John- 
sing,  an'  let  me  through  thar,  will  you?" 

Mr.  Johnson  obligingly  moved  out  of  Pete's  way, 
and  the  latter  rode  to  the  front  and  faced  the  guer- 
rilla chief,  who  did  not  look  as  bold  and  warlike  now 
as  he  did  while  he  was  engaged  in  that  wanton  de- 
struction of  furniture  an  hour  or  so  before.  He 
looked  frightened,  and  of  course  that  encouraged 
Pete  to  be  as  insulting  as  ho  ]3leased. 

*'  We  uus  have  had  jest  enough  of  you,  Amos  Ry- 


THE  MEETING.  139 

der,"  said  the  spokesman,  while  all  his  comrades  iu 
the  frout  rank  moved  forward  to  assist  him  in  case 
he  and  the  captain  should  come  to  blows;  "  an' we 
ain't  a  goin'  to  foller  in  your  lead  no  longer.  I  tell 
you  that  you  ain't  the  kind  of  a  caj)ting  we  uns  are 
wantin',  an'  so  you'd  best  git." 

"  Yes,  Amos,  you'd  better  be  a-gittin',"  shouted 
the  men,  who,  if  they  had  never  before  realized  how 
totally  unfit  their  leader  was  for  the  position  he 
held,  were  fully  sensible  of  it  now.  "  Start  up  that 
ole  lop  eared  mu-el  o'  your'n  an'  be  a  gittin'." 

Captain  Eyder  could  not  see  any  chance  to  get 
away,  and  neither  could  his  mule,  for  the  angry 
guerrillas  had  completely  surrounded  them.  The 
order  to  "  be  a  gittin'  "  was  emphasized  by  energetic 
thrusts  from  the  sharp  muzzles  of  as  many  rifles  and 
double  barrels  as  could  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
flanks  of  the  mule,  and  when  at  last  the  patience  of 
that  much  abused  animal  was  all  exhausted,  he 
kicked  right  and  left  to  such  good  purpose  that  he 
quickly  cleared  a  way  for  himself,  and  made  all 
haste  to  retreat  through  it. 

"  Here  we  go,  dog  gone  our  Confed'rit  buttons  !" 
shouted  Kyder,  bringing  the  flat  of  his  saber  down 
upon  the  mule's  ribs  with  a  sounding  whack.  *'  Git 
out  of  our  way,  everybody !" 

This  ungrateful  treatment  on  the  part  of  the  mas- 
ter whom  he  had  just  carried  out  of  the  reach  of  his 
angry  and  excited  men  brought  a  bray  of  remon- 
strance and  another  vicious  kick  from  the  mule;  but 
Captain  Ryder,  being  on  his  guard  this  time,  was 
not  unhorsed  as  his  comrades  expected  him  to  be. 

He  went  down  the  lane  at  a  furious  rate  of  sj)eed, 
and  finally  the  jeers  and  yells  of  derision,  which  the 
exultant  guerrillas  sent  after  him,  died  away  in  the 
distance. 


140  LUKE  BENNETT'S  UIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

RYDEli's    CHANGE    OF    BASE. 

Although  Ctaptaiu  Kyder  was  astonished  and  be- 
wildered by  the  suddenness  with  which  ho  had  been 
deprived  of  his  command,  he  was  not  entirely  over- 
whelmed by  it.  He  was  dee^^ly  mortified  of  course, 
but  he  was  angry  as  well,  and,  instead  of  giving 
himself  over  to  gloomy  reflections,  he  at  once  began 
to  cast  about  for  some  way  to  "  get  even  "  with  the 
men  who  had  so  unceremoniously  ousted  him  from 
his  position  as  commander  of  the  Home  Guards. 

*'  I  ain't  by  no  means  sure  that  they've  got  the 
right  to  kick  me  out  in  that  fasliion,"  soliloquized 
ex-Cajotain  Kyder,  as  he  drew  rein  in  front  of  the 
bars  that  gave  entrance  to  his  own  domain ;  "  but  I 
ain't  a  carin'  very  mucli  about  that.  What  I  don't 
like  is  their  puttin'  Kazier  Bowles  in  my  place.  He'll 
get  Luke  Bennett  an'  the  rest  of  them  fellers  down 
on  the  company  wusser'n  they  be  now.  They'll 
ruinate  everything  that  comes  in  their  way,  an'  how 
shall  I  save  myself  an'  the  little  i)roperty  I've  got 
left?  That's  what  I'm  tryin'  to  settle  now,  an'  I 
reckon  I'd  best  speak  to  Sally  Ann  about  it." 

Cai^tain  Ryder's  wife  was  moving  about  the  cabin, 
intent  upon  her  household  duties;  but  the  rattling 
of  the  bars  brought  her  to  the  door.  She  was  a  tall, 
muscular  woman,  and  there  was  something  aggres- 
sive in  her  way  of  flouncing  out  upon  the  porch. 


RYDER'S  CHANGE  OF  BASE.  141 

Planting  herself  firmly  on  her  feet,  with  her 
clenched  hands  upon  her  hips,  she  waited  for  the 
captain  to  say  something;  but  as  he  showed  no  dis- 
position to  begin  the  conversation,  she  took  her  pipe 
out  of  her  mouth  long  enough  to  ask: 

"Did  you  find  that  money,  Amos  Kyder  ?" 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  growled  the  captain. 

"  I'm  dog  gone  glad  of  it,"  said  his  wife,  spite- 
fully. "  I  knowed  you  wouldn't  get  it,  but  do  you 
know  what  I  was  kalkerlatin'  to  do  if  you  did  find 
it  ?  "Wal,  I  was  goin'  to  take  Miss  Bennett's  shar' 
back  to  her  to  wunst,  an'  I  was  goin'  to  say  to  her; 
'Miss  Bennett,  hyar's  your  money.  You  sent  me 
the  medicine  that  cured  me  of  my  fever  'n  ager,  an' 
I  ain't  a  goin'  to  stand  by  an'  let  no  husband  of 
mine  rob  you;  you  can  bet  on  that.'  That's  what 
I'd  have  said  to  Miss  Bennett,  Amos  Ryder;  an'  now 
I  want  you  to  quit  your  galavantin'  around  the  ken- 
try,  an'  stay  to  hum  whar  you  b'long.  I'm  gettin' 
teetotally  tired  of  choppin'  wood  an'  totin'  all  the 
water  from  the  bayou,  while  you  are  foolin'  around 
on  that  ole  mu-el  playin'  soldier,  an'  I  jest  ain't  goin' 
to  stand  it  no  longer.  You  Home  Guards  ain't  noth- 
in'  but  a  nuisance,  any  way.  One  good  sized  Yank 
could  run  the  hull  on  you." 

"  Wal,  I  ain't  so  sartin  about  that  nuther,"  an- 
swered Amos,  plucking  up  a  little  spirit.  "  But  I 
do  think  in  my  soul  that  the  company  has  ruinated 
herself  by  this  day's  work.  They've  kicked  me  out, 
an'  put  Kazier  Bowles  in  my  place  as  capting." 

"  I'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  his  wife,  again. 
*'  Seems  like  some  on  'em  has  got  a  leetle  sense,  arter 
all.  I  knowed  there  was  something  the  matter  of 
you  as  soon  as  I  put  my  peepers  on  to  you.  What 
be  you  goin'  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"  I'm  goin'  to  give  up  trainin'  with  *em  now,  and 
throw  all  the  inflooence  I've  got  on  to  the  side  of 


142  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

Luko  an'  his  friends.  I'm  goin'  to  help  'em  every 
chance  I  got " 

*'  Now  you're  talkin'  like  a  man,"  said  his  wife,  in 
milder  tones.     *'  Will  you  stick  to  it  ?" 

"  You  bet  I  will.  I'm  goin'  to  show  them  Home 
Guards  that  they  didn't  make  nothin'  by  treatin'  me 
like  I  was  a  yallor  dog.  I  despise  the  way  they 
poked  my  mu-cl  till  he  come  mighty  nigh  flingin' 
me,  an'  I " 

"  I  ain't  a  carin'  about  that,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Ryder.  "If  he'd  flung  you  long  ago,  an' knocked 
a  leetle  sense  into  your  head,  it  would  havo  been 
a  good  thing  fur  3'ou.  Do  you  know  what  Miss 
RaTiisay  done  while  you  and  them  wagaboncs  was 
a  gettia'  ready  to  raid  her  house  ?  Wal,  she  sent 
over  a  big  basket  of  the  best  kind  of  grub  for  we 
uns,  an' — now  you  needn't  go  to  smackin'  your  lips 
that  way,  'cause  you  ain't  had  none  of  it  yet;  an'  I 
did  say  to  myself  that  you  shouldn't  never  taste  a 
bit  of  it,  if  you  went  near  Miss  Ramsay's  house. 
But  if  you  have  come  to  your  senses,  an'  will  stick 
to  what  you  saj-  about  befriendin'  Luke  an'  the  rest 
as  often  as  you  see  a  chance,  I'll  give  j^ou  the  best 
kind  of  a  supper." 

"I'll  stick  to  it,  Sally  Ann,"  replied  Ryder,  earn- 
estly, "  'cause — why,  I've  got  to.  I  look  to  see  us  all 
livin'  in  bresh  shanties  in  less'n  a  Avecjk." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?  '  demanded  IMrs. 
Ryder,  sharply. 

"  I  mean  that  Kazier  Bowles'll  begin  burnin'  the 
houses  of  all  the  Union  people  in  the  settlement 
about  tomorrow  or  next  day,"  rei)lied  the  deposed 
cliieftain.  "I've  allers  kicked  agin'  them  kind  of 
doin's,  'cause  I  knowed  it  would  briug  Luke  an'  liis 
friends  outen  the  swamp  ;  an'  if  tliey  do  come  out, 
they'll  make  bonfires  of  the  houses  of  all  us  Con- 
fed'rits.     I'm  powerful  sorry    that  Ave  uns  smashed 


RYDER'S  CHANGE  OF  BASE.  143 

up  them  planners  an'  things,  'cause  now  how'll  I  go 
to  work  to  make  Luke  believe  that  I'm  a  friend  of 
his'n  ?  If  I  show  myself  to  him,  I  am  liable  to  be 
filled  so  full  of  buckshot  holes  that  I'll  do  fur  a 
winder." 

"  An'  if  Kazier  Bowles  an'  the  rest  of  them  wuth- 
less  Home  Guards  finds  out  that  you  are  bein' 
friendly  with  Luke,  they'll  call  you  to  the  door  some 
night  an'  i3op  you  over,"  said  his  wife,  in  a  tone  of 
anxiety. 

"  Perzackly,"  assented  Amos  with  a  groan.  "Now 
you  see  jest  how  I  m  fixed,  don't  you  ?  What  in  the 
world  am  I  to  do,  Sally  Ann?  'Pears  to  me  like  I'm 
in  a  scrape  all  along  of  them  fellers  kickin'  me  outen 
the  company." 

It  looked  that  way  to  Mrs.  Eyder,  too;  and  as 
she  could  not  say  anything  encouraging  to  her  de- 
jected husband,  she  turned  about  and  went  into  the 
house.  Eyder  took  the  saddle  and  bridle  off  his 
mule,  leaving  the  animal  to  go  where  he  pleased, 
and  sat  on  the  steps  to  think  over  the  situation. 

Kyder  did  not  enjoy  his  supper  as  he  thought  he 
w^ould.  The  good  things  that  had  been  provided 
for  him  by  the  generosity  of  the  woman  whoso  house 
had  been  wa-ecked  by  his  orders  seemed  to  choke 
him;  and  although  he  was  hungry,  he  made  a  very 
unsatisfactory  meaL  He  managed  to  swallow  a  few 
mouthfuls  of  bread  and  meat,  and  then  he  pushed 
his  chair  away  from  the  table,  and  jncked  u^)  his 
pipe. 

But  the  tobacco  did  not  soothe  his  neryes,  or 
drive  away  his  fears.  He  went  to  bed  trembling 
with  apprehension;  and  when  he  slept,  he  dreamed 
that  he  saw  Luke  Bennett  and  his  friends  approach- 
ing the  cabin  to  take  summary  vengeance  upon  him. 
He  got  up  the  next  morning  as  tired  as  he  was  when 
he  w^ent  to  bed,  and  the  first  words  he  said  were: 


144  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  Now,  Sally  Ann,  3-011  ojien  the  door  fin'  soc  if 
tliar's  anybody  watcliin'  outside.  They  won't  shoot 
you,  because  you  ain't  done  nothing;  but  they 
would  let  into  me  afore  you  could  say  *  Gen'ral  Jack- 
son '  with  your  mouth  open." 

Mrs.  Rj'dor  was  a  woman  of  courap^e  as  well  as 
muscle,  but  it  was  not  without  some  misgivinp^s  that 
she  complied  with  his  request.  She  opened  the  door 
about  an  inch,  but  quickly  drew  back  and  closed  it 
again. 

"  Thar's  somebody  out  tliar,  as  sure  as  you're 
born,"  said  she,  in  a  frightened  whisper.  "  He's 
comin'  uj)  the  road." 

Ryder,  who  made  a  frantic  jump  for  his  bear 
killer,  stopped,  when  he  heard  the  concluding  sen- 
tence. 

*•  If  he's  coming  along  the  road  he  ain't  a  goin'  to 
pester  we  uns,"  said  he,  confidentlj'.  "  I.  ain't  afeared 
of  nobody  who  keeps  so't  I  can  see  him.  Look 
again,  Sally  Ann." 

Mrs.  Ryder  looked,  and  threw  the  door  wide  open, 
just  as  Ike  Bishop  hurried  up  to  the  bars.  The 
guerrilla  chief  gazed  at  him  in  amazement.  The 
boy  carried  his  left  arm  in  a  sling,  and  wore  a  band- 
age over  his  left  eye. 

"  Wal,  I  do  think  in  my  soul,  Ike  Bishop!"  ex- 
claimed Ryder,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak.  "  What 
you  been  a  doin'  to  yourself  ?" 

"  I  ain't  been  a  doin'  of  nothing,"  answered  Ike, 
,as  he  came  into  the  house,  and  took  possession  of 
the  chair  that  was  pointed  out  to  him.  ''  Some  of 
them  fellows  that's  layin'  out  in  the  swamp  done 
this  fur  me.  But  didn't  we  have  a  fight  with  'em, 
though  ?  An'  didn't  they  kill  Captain  Belden  ?  They 
must,  for  he  never  came  back  to  us  again.  An' 
don't  I  know  whar  the  money  is,  an'  ain't  Knrnel  St. 
Clair  diggin'  out  of  hero  as   fast  as   hia   boss  can 


RYDER'S  CHANGE  OF  BASE.  145 

carry  him,  all  along  of  a  note  that  was  left  on  his 
gallery  last  night  ?  Whew !  I've  got  so  much  to  tell 
you  that  I  don't  know  whar  to  begin." 

"  Do  you  pretend  to  say  that  Kurn  St.  Clair  has 
been  warned  to  leave  the  kentry  ?"  cried  the  captain, 
who  had  listened  in  surprise  to  this  rambling  speech. 
**  Who  warned  him  ?" 

*'Luke  Bennett,  in  course.  The  kurn  came  over 
to  our  house  this  mornin'  an'  told  me  all  about  it. 
WTien  he  got  hum  last  night  he  found  all  his  women 
folks  skeered  to  death,  all  along  of  a  note  that  one 
of  them  had  found  on  the  gallery.  I  guess  the  kurn 
was  skeered,  too,  for  he  dug  out  bright  an'  'arly: 
but,  mind  you,  he  didn't  go  back  to  Tennessee,  like 
Luke  told  him  he  must.  He  drawed  a  bee  line  fur 
Vicksburg,  an'  he's  goin'  to  ask  the  gen'ral  to  send 
over  a  company  of  men  an'  snake  Luke  an'  the  rest 
of  them  fellers  outen  the  swamp.  An'  that's  what  I 
come  hyar  to  talk  to  you  about.  If  you  uns  want 
the  money  that  you  have  been  a  lookin'  fur,  you 
mustn't  waste  no  time.  I  know  whar  Luke's  hide 
out  is,  an'  if  you  will  get  your  company  together  I 
will  guide  you  to  it,  pervided  you  will  hand  over  ten 
thousand  dollars  the  minute  you  find  the  money.  If 
you  won't  do  it,  them  Vicksburg  fellers  can  come 
an'  get  it  fur  all  I  care.  If  we  could  'a'  gobbled 
them  last  night,  I'd  'a'  made  six  thousand  dollars, 
*cause  the  kurn  promised  it  to  me;  but  they  made  a 
good  fight  of  it,  an'  we  didn't  have  men  enough  to 
take  'em.     Now,  capting,  what  do  you  say  ?" 

"  I  wish  in  my  soul  that  I'd  knowd  this  yesterday," 
replied  Ryder,  looking  down  at  the  floor  in  a  brown 
study.  "I  can't  do  nothing,  Ike.  The  men  kicked  me 
outen  the  company,  'cause  we  didn't  find  the  money 
in  them  houses.  No;  I  don't  command  the  Home 
Guards  any  more.  Kazier  Bowles  is  the  man  you 
want  to  go  to.     He's  the  capting  now." 


146  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

The  deposed  chief  did  not  tell  his  visitor  that  he 
had  turned  against  the  company,  and  intended  to 
befriend  Luke  Bennett  in  every  way  he  could  from 
that  time  forward,  for  he  knew  that  Ike  was  too  good 
a  rebel  to  be  intrusted  with  any  such  dangerous 
secret.  He  would  go  straight  to  Kaziah  Bowles  with 
it,  and  then  something  disagreeable  would  be  sure 
to  happen. 

"  Wal,"  said  Ike,  as  he  rose  to  go.  "  If  Kazier's 
the  man,  I  reckon  I  might  as  well  keep  a  lumberin' 
till  I  lind  him.  It  will  take  we  uns  three  or  four 
days,  and  mebbe  a  week,  to  get  ready  to  make  the 
attack,  'cause  the  water  is  six  feet  deep  all  over  the 
swamp,  an'  we've  got  to  build  boats  enough  to  hold 
thirty  or  forty  men.  We  must  take  force  enough  to 
surround  the  hide  out,  'cause  if  we  don't,  some  of 
'em  will  be  sure  to  slip  away  from  us.  You'll  lend  a 
hand,  I  s'pose  ?  " 

"  O  yes,"  said  Ryder,  who  knew  better  than  to 
make  any  other  reply.  "  I'll  be  around  when  I'm 
waijted." 

W]ien  Ike  was  safely  out  of  hearing  Captain  Ryder 
turned  to  his  wife. 

"  Now,  ol'  woman,"  said  he,  "  you'd  best  toddle 
right  down  to  Miss  Ramsay's,  an' tell  her  what  you 
beared  Ike  say  tome.  Jest  say  to  her,  while  you  are 
about  it,  that  I'm  a  Luke  Bennett  man  from  this 
time  on,  and  that,  if  I  can  hel})  it,  them  boats  that 
Ike  talks  of  buildin'  shan't  never  bother  him.  Tell 
her,  too,  that  I'll  watch  these  fellers  day  an'  night,  an' 
keep  her  an'  Miss  Bennett  posted  in  everything  they 
are  doin'  or  thinkin'  of  doin'.  Make  it  as  strong  as 
you  can,  Sally  Ann,  'cause  I  know  that  Luke  is  awful 
mad  at  me  all  along  of  what  we  uns  done  yesterda3\" 

Mrs.  Ryder  thought  the  suggestion  a  good  one, 
and  she  lost  no  time  in  acting  upon  it. 


LETTERS  OF  WAENING,  147 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LETTERS     OF      WARNING. 

The  last  time  we  saw  Luke  Bennett  and  Joe  Ram- 
say, they  were  just  setting  out  on  some  sort  of  secret 
mission  which  would  'keep  them  away  from  their 
friends  nearly  all  night.  As  they  paddled  away 
from  the  island  they  puri3osely  touched  one  of  the 
wires  connected  with  the  alarm  bells  in  the  cabin, 
believing,  as  Sidney  Jones  said,  that  their  guest 
would  sleep  more  soundly  if  he  could  see  for  himself 
what  precautions  they  had  taken  to  guard  their 
camp.  Then  they  turned  the  bow  of  their  canoe  to- 
ward the  nearest  shore,  and  plied  their  paddles 
steadily  until  their  boat  grounded    on  the  shore. 

They  sprang  out  at  once,  but  did  not  stojD  to  con- 
ceal their  boat,  because  it  was  so  dark  that  one  might 
have  passed  Avithin  two  feet  of  it  without  discovering 
it.  They  simply  drew  it  half  way  out  of  the  water 
and  then  shouldered  their  guns,  and  set  out  at  a 
brisk  pace  toward  the  road. 

When  they  reached  it  they  broke  into  a  dog  trot, 
and  at  the  end  of  an  hour  found  themselves  in  front 
of  Colonel  St.  Clair's  house.  It  would  be  a  pity  to 
burn  it,  the  boys  told  each  other,  for  it  was  a  noble 
old  mansion,  and  there  were  three  women  living  in 
it;  but  it  was  a  greater  pity  that  Colonel  St.  Clair 
should  excite  Ryder  to  activity,  and  urge  him  to 
make  war  upon  the  generous  women  who  had  often 
fed  his  wife  and  daughters  when  they  were  hungry. 


148  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  I  certainly  hope  the  colonel  will  pay  some  atten- 
tion to  what  I  have  written  to  him,"  said  Luke,  tak- 
injT^  a  letter  from  the  inside  pocket  of  his  jacket.  "If 
he  don't,  up  she  goes !  " 

Joe  opened  the  gate,  and  the  two  boys  hastened 
up  the  broad  walk,  now  overgrown  witli  weeds 
and  grass,  mounted  tlie  steps  that  led  to  the  porch 
and  knocked  at  the  door.  The  summons  was 
answered  almost  immediately  by  the  colonel's  wife, 
who  started  and  turned  pale  when  she  saw  who  her 
visitors  were. 

"  Good  evening,  Mrs.  St.  Clair,"  said  Luke,  lifting 
his  hat.  "  Here  is  a  letter  for  the  colonel.  Will  j'ou 
be  kind  enough  to  give  it  to  him  when  he  returns 
from  hunting  />efl7'  meat  ?  " 

Luke  laid  a  good  deal  of  emphasis  upon  the  last 
two  words.  He  wanted  iho  lady  to  understand  tliat 
he  knew  very  well  tliat  tlie  colonel  was  not  after 
l)ear  meat,  but  that  liis  object  was  to  capture  the 
boys  who  were  hiding  in  the  swamp. 

"  I  will  see  that  he  gets  it,  Luke,"  replied  Mrs. 
St.  Clair,  in  a  trembling  voice. 

'*  Thank  you.     Good  evening." 

The  boys  departed  as  rapidly  as  they  had  come, 
and  hurried  away  to  carry  the  same  warning  message 
to  the  house  of  Captain  Griffin,  which  was  located 
about  two  miles  farther  down  the  road. 

This  being  done,  they  took  to  the  fields  again,  and 
after  another  hour's  walk  mounted  the  steps  leading 
to  the  porch  of  a  third  house,  and,  entering  without 
ceremony,  found  a  lady  sitting  on  one  side  of  a  wide, 
old  fashioned  fireplace,  and  a  very  fat  darky  woman 
dozing  on  the  other.  They  both  S2:)rang  to  their  feet 
as  the  boys  came  in,  and  a  second  later  the  lady  was 
clasped  in  Luke  Bennett's  arms.     It  was  his  mother. 

"  I  bross  de  good  Lawd  dat  I  am  spar'd  to  see  dis 
day  I  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Martha.     She  was  the  boy*s 


LETTERS  OF  WARNING.  149 

old  nurse.  She  used  to  take  care  of  him  when  he 
was  a  little  fellow,  and  could  not  have  thought  more 
of  him  if  he  had  been  her  own  pickaninny.  "  Dem 
white  trash  dat's  went  inter  de  swamp  to  hunt  bar 
meat  didn't  cotch  yer,  Moss'  Luke." 

"  No,  and  they  are  not  going  to  catch  me,  either, 
Aunt  Martha.  Bring  us  chairs;  there's  a  good 
soul !" 

The  boys  seated  themselves  in  front  of  the  blaz- 
ing wood  fire,  Luke  getting  as  close  to  his  mother's 
side  as  he  could;  but  they  did  not,  for  an  instant, 
let  their  guns  out  of  their  hands.  They  held  them 
on  their  knees  while  they  talked,  knowing  that  it 
behooved  them  to  be  constantly  on  their  guard. 

"  Have  you  just  come  from  the  hide  out  ?"  asked 
IVIrs.  Bennett,  when  there  was  a  lull  in  the  conversa- 
tion. 

"  N-no,  ma'am,"  replied  Luke,  with  some  hesita- 
tion. "Joe  and  I  have  been  attending  to  a  little 
business." 

"Luke,"  said  his  mother,  while  an  expression  of 
anxiety  settled  on  her  face,  "  what  was  that  busi- 
ness ?" 

"  Oh,  we  haven't  been  bushwhacking  anybody," 
exclaimed  Joe,  who  knew  very  well  what  Mrs.  Ben- 
nett was  afraid  of.  "We  just  lett  a  couple  of  little 
notes  with  Colonel  St.  Clair's  family  and  Captain 
Griffin's,  telling  them  that  they  had  better  clear 
themselves  and  go  back  to  the  army  where  they  be- 
long. We  all  think  that  the  unusual  activity  of  Ky- 
der's  guerrillas  is  owing  to  their  presence,  and  we 
intend  to  get  rid  of  them." 

While  Joe  was  speaking,  Luke  had  been  running 
his  eye  around  the  room,  which  somehow  did  not 
look  just  right  to  him. 

"  Look  here,  mother,"  said  he,  suddenly,  "  where's 
that  easy  chair  I  brought  for  father  when  I  came 


150  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

homo  from  school?  Where's  the  piano?"  he  acldetl, 
an  instant  later. 

"  Never  mind  the  chair  and  piano,"  said  his  moth- 
er. "I  am  so  ^lad  to  have  you  near  me  that  I  am 
quite  Avilliiig  to  let  them  go.     Never  mind  them." 

"I  know  where  they  are,"  exclaimed  the  boy, 
while  his  eyes  flashed  and  las  lingers  w^orked  con- 
vulsively. "Ryder's  men  cut  uj)  one  and  smashed 
the  other  in  the  ho2)e  of  finding  father's  money." 

"Dat's  jes'  what  dey  done,  Moss' Luke,"  ex(*laimed 
Annt  Martha,  })aying  no  heed  to  Mrs.  Bennett's 
warning  glances.  "  Dat's  jes'  what  dem  white  trash 
done.  Dey  bus'  up  de  i^ianner,  an'  cut  u])  dat  chair 
o'  your'n,  an'  done  tore  up  de  flo' — Moss'  Luke,  I 
jes'  wish  you  been  hyar  an'  see  how  dey  'have  them- 
selves." 

Luke  had  no  reply  to  make,  for  he  did  not  want  to 
add  to  his  mother's  heavy  burden  of  anxiety;  but 
he  and  Joe  looked  at  each  other,  and  there  was  a  vol- 
ume of  meaning  in  the  glances  they  exchanged. 
Ryder's  men  were  quite  right  when  they  told  one 
another  that  they  had  made  some  determined  ene- 
mies by  their  last  raid 

"  The  note  Tramj:*  brought  me  tells  me  that  you 
have  a  visitor  at  the  hide  out  in  the  person  of  a 
Yankee  gunboat  officer,"  observed  Mrs.  Bennett,  who 
was  anxious  to  turn  the  conversation  into  another 
channel.  "  What  sort  of  a  gentleman  does  he  seem 
to  be?" 

"The  right  sort,"  was  Luke's  reply.  "We  have 
only  been  acquainted  with  him  a  few  hours,  but  we 
all  like  him.  He  would  be  a  valuable  acquisition  if 
we  should  get  into  trouble,  for  he  has  smelled  pow- 
der so  often  that  he  has  got  used  to  it.  He  must 
be  a  reliable  officer,  or  he  would  not  have  been  in- 
trusted with  dispatches.  He  lost  his  way  wliile  he 
was  going  down  Rolling  Fork  to  find  General  JSher- 


LETTEPvS  OF  WARNING.  151 

man,  and  old  Sam  found  liim  and  brought  him  to 
the  hide  out." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Bennett,  "  it  isn't  at  all  prob- 
able tliat  he  will  be  able  to  return  to  his  friends,  as 
long  as  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  his  party  are  in  the 
swamp;  and  some  night,  when  I  am  sure  that  it 
would  be  perfectly  safe  for  you  to  do  so,  I  will  send 
you  word  by  Tramp,  and  I  should  like  to  have  you 
bring  him  up  here.  I  think  I  should  like  to  see  a 
live  Yankee." 

"Thank  you,  mother;  he  will  be  glad  to  come. 
He  said  so.  He  looks  just  like  anybod}^  else,  so  far 
as  I  can  see,  but  he  wears  better  clothes  than  we 
do." 

"How  were  all  my  folks  the  last  time  you  saw 
them  ?"  asked  Joe  Kamsay. 

"Your  mother  was  here  this  morning,"  replied 
Mrs.  Bennett.  "She  was  very  well,  but,  like  the 
rest  of  us,  she  didn't  feel  very  good  natured  over 
Ryder's  raid." 

"I  should  say  not,"  replied  Joe,  in  savage  tones. 
"  I  should  like  very  much  to  see  her,  but  it  is  a  long 
way  up  there,  and  I  am  afraid  daylight  would  catch 
me." 

"Yes,  and  it  will  catch  us  here  if  we  don't  start 
pretty  soon,"  said  Luke,  rising  to  his  feet.  "  Good 
by,  mother.  It  does  me  a  world  of  good  to  have 
half  an  hour  with  you." 

"  Good  by,  my  dear  boy.  That  Heaven  may  guard 
and  keep  you  is  my  constant  prayer." 

The  farewell  embrace  was  long  and  lingering; 
but  at  last  Luke  turned  away  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
and  followed  Joe  Ramsay  out  of  the  door. 

It  took  the  friends  an  hour  and  a  half  to  reach 
the  hide  out.  As  they  drew  near  to  it,  they  i-an 
against  one  of  the  submerged  wires  on  j)urpose  to 
ring  the  bell  and   warn  their  friends   of   their   ap- 


16%  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

proach.  They  went  into  the  bide  out  the  same  way 
thc}^  loft  it,  and  when  they  reached  the  end  of  the 
passage,  they  found  all  their  companions  assembled 
there;  but  where  was  the  boisterous  greeting  that 
they  were  wont  to  extend  to  those  of  their  company 
who  left  the  hide  out  for  any  purj^ose  ?  As  soon  as 
their  canoe  came  within  reach,  Sidney  Jones  seized 
it,  and  drew  the  bow  high  upon  the  bank  ;  but  he 
did  not  speak. 

"  Now,  then,"  exclaimed  Luke,  with  some  anxiety 
in  his  tones,  "  why  don't  you  fellows  say  something  ? 
You  are  as  dumb  as  so  many  clams." 

As  Luke  Bennett  sprang  ashore,  he  caught  sight 
of  old  Sam,  who  stood  close  behind  Tom  Pike;  and 
one  glance  at  his  staring  eyes,  which  seemed 
to  have  grown  twice  their  usual  size  since  he  saw 
him  last,  was  enough  to  convince  Luke  that  there 
had  been  something  exciting  going  on  at  the  hide 
out  during  his  absence. 

"  AYhat's  the  matter  with  ever^'body,  any  way  ?  " 
he  demanded.  "  Why  don't  you  speak  ?  Has  anything 
happened  here  since  we  went  ashore  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  so,"  replied  Sidney,  in  a  tone  of 
voice  which  turned  Luke  Bennett's  anxiet}'  into  posi- 
tive alarm.  "  There's  been  a  good  deal  going  on, 
and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Duckfoot  we  should  all  have 
been  captured  by  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  his  gang." 

"Put  it  there,  Ned,"  said  Luke,  extending  his 
hand  to  the  young  officer.  "  I  told  mother  that  if 
any  of  us  got  into  trouble  we  should  find  a  good 
backer  in  you.     Now,  what  has  hai^pened  ?  " 

"But,  bad  as  things  are  here,  there  have  been 
worse  things  going  on  in  Vicksburg,"  added  Sidney. 

'*  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  demanded  Joe. 
"  And  who  has  been  here  to  bring  you  news  from 
Vicksburg  ?  " 

"  Come  with  me  and  I  will  show  you." 


LETTERS  OF  WARNING.  153 

Filled  with  apprehension,  Luke  and  Joe  followed 
Sidney,  who  led  the  way  through  the  cabin  and  out 
to  the  camp  fire.  They  saw  a  strange  canoe  drawn 
out  upon  the  bank,  with  Ned  Marsh's  boat  cloak 
spread  over  one  end  of  it.  Sidney  halted  beside  the 
canoe  and  raised  the  cloak. 

"  A  dead  man  !  "  exclaimed  Luke  and  Joe,  recoil- 
ing with  horror. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sidney,  calmly.  "  He  met  his  death 
while  trying  to  get  us  into  trouble.  Worse  than 
that,  he  has  placed  some  of  our  friends  in  Vicksburg 
in  danger  of  their  lives." 

Luke  and  Joe  turned  pale  as  death  and  tried  to 
speak,  but  they  could  not  iitter  a  sound. 

"I  know  what  you  would  say,"  continued  Sidne5^ 
"  It  is  a  long  story,  and  Duckfoot  can  tell  it  to  you 
better  than  I  can,  for  he  knows  the  man  whom  this 
spy  was  personating  when  Ike  Bishop's  chance  shot 
sent  him  to  his  long  home.  Ike  fired  at  us — at 
Duckfoot  and  me;  but  Ned  was  sharp  enough  to 
back  our  canoe  toward  the  cane,  and  the  charge  of 
buckshot,  that  was  intended  for  us,  struck  this  spy" 

"  How  do  you  know  that  he  was  a  spy  ?  "  Joe 
managed  to  ask. 

By  way  of  reply  Ned  produced  the  shattered 
button,  and  took  from  it  the  tell  tale  piece  of  paper. 
Then  he  drew  from  his  pocket  the  letter  of  introduc- 
tion that  had  been  prepared  for  Proctor,  saying: 

"  If  you  will  read  this,  you  will  get  a  pretty  good 
idea  of  the  situation.  In  order  that  you  may  read 
it  understandingly,  perhaps  I  had  better  tell  you 
that  the  man  Proctor,mentioned  in  it,is  a  noted  Union 
spy.  He  was  captured  and  taken  to  Vicksburg,  and 
your  friends  tried  to  aid  him  to  make  his  escape, 
knowing  that  if  he  didn't  get  away  he  would  stand 
a  fair  chance  of  being  hanged.  They  gave  him  in- 
structions, together  with  a  package  of  letters  that 


154  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

were  to  be  delivered  to  you  when  Le  found  the  hide 
out ;  but  the  plot  was  discovered,  aDd  this  man 
Belden  took  Proctor's  place  and  came  over  here, 
probably  with  the  intention  of  locating  your  hiding 
place,  so  that  he  could  come  back  with  a  force  big 
enough  to  take  you  all  prisoners." 

"  He  dug  a  pit  for  us,  and  fell  into  it  himself," 
said  Luke,  gravely.  "  He  was  justly  punished,  but 
I  am  glad  his  blood  is  not  upon  our  hands.  He 
rang  the  bells  when  he  came  up  to  the  hide  out,  I 
suppose  ?" 

"Yes;  and  gave  the  signal  all  fair  and  square," 
said  Tom  Pike.  "  I  tell  you  that  frightened  us,  un- 
til Duckfoot  suggested  that  perhaps  it  might  have 
been  given  by  one  of  our  friends  who  had  escaped 
from  Vicksburg." 

*'  Sidney  and  I  went  out  to  meet  him,"  chimed  in 
Ned  Marsh;  "and  when  he  told  us  that  his  name 
was  Proctor,  I  knew  in  a  minute  that  he  was  a  fraud, 
and  a  dangerous  one,  too.  But  he  will  never  reveal 
the  secret  of  your  hiding  place." 

"No;  but  Ike  Bishop  will,"  replied  Luke,  with 
some  anxiety  in  his  tones.  "  He  knows  these  swamps 
like  a  book,  and  a  place  that  he  has  once  visited  he 
can  find  again  on  the  darkest  of  nights.  We  will 
notify  him  tonight  that,  if  he  wants  to  die  a  natural 
death,  he  must  leave  this  country  without  an  hour's 
delay.  But  how  about  our  friends  in  Vicksburg, 
Duckfoot?" 

Ned  Marsh  hesitated.  That  was  a  question  he  did 
not  like  to  answer.  But  his  silence  spoke  volumes, 
and  Luke's  heart  sank  within  him. 

"  Speak  up,  Ned,"  said  he,  bravely  trying  to  swallow 
a  big  lump  that  seemed  to  be  rising  in  his  throat. 
"Don't  be  afraid,  for  I  can  bear  anything.  How 
about  our  people  in  Vicksburg?  Will  they  be 
hanged  or  shot  for  aiding  Proctor? 


.LETTERS  OF  WARNING.  155 

"  I  am  afraid  they  will  be  severely  punished,^* 
answered  Ned,  reluctantly. 

When  Joe  Kamsay  heard  these  ominous  w^ords, 
his  fortitude  gave  way  utterly,  and,  sitting  down  on 
the  damp  ground  where  he  was  standing,  he 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  cried  aloud  ; 
but  Luke  Bennett  never  shed  a  tear. 

"  Brace  up,  Joe,"  said  he,  reproachfully.  "  Be  a 
man.  Your  mother  did  not  betray  so  much  w^eakness 
when  the  rebels  took  your  father  out  of  his  house 
and  carried  him  over  to  Vicksburg,  did  she  ?  Not  if 
I  know  myself.  She's  got  altogether  too  much 
pluck." 

"  Did  you  say  that  there  were  some  letters  for  me 
in  that  package  ? "  he  added,  turning  to  Sidney 
Jones. 

"Yes;  they  are  in  there  on  the  table,"  said  Sidney, 
waving  his  hand  toward  the  cabin.  "  Poor  fellows  !" 
he  added,  in  an  undertone,  as  Luke  and  Joe  dis- 
appeared through  the  doorway.  "  They  are  about 
to  go  through  the  same  ordeal  that  w^e  passed 
through  a  little  while  ago — reading  letters  from  those 
they  may  never  see  again." 

Ned  and  his  companions  replenished  the  fire,  and 
sat  by  it,  conversing  in  low  tones,  while  Luke  and 
Joe  read  their  letters,  and  thought  of  their  im- 
prisoned friends  and  relatives  in  Vicksburg.  In  a 
few  minutes  Joe  Kamsay  came  out  and  joined 
them.  His  face  w^as  very  pale,  but  he  had  no  more 
tears  to  shed.     He  had  nerved  himself  for  the  worst. 

"  Luke  is  writing  a  letter  to  send  home  by  Tramp, 
if  he  happens  to  come  here  during  the  day,"  said  he. 

"  Is  he  going  to  tell  his  mother  just  how  the 
thing  stands  ?  "  inquired  Frank  Barron. 

"  Of  course  he  is.  Our  women  folks  must  know 
all  about  it,  for  it  would  be  cruel  to  keep  it  from 
them.     The  letters  addressed  to  our  mothers  will  be 


156  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

sent  to  them  tonight — and,  at  the  same  time,  Ike 
Bishop  will  be  warned  that  hi«  room  in  better  than 
his  company.  Ike  knows  where  our  hide  out  is,  and  it 
would  be  no  trouble  at  all  for  Ryder  and  his  men  to 
build  flatboats  enough  to  bring  that  com2)any  of 
guerrillas  down  here.     Then  what  ?" 

"I  reckon  there  would  be  a  fight,"  Tom  Pike 
remarked. 

"I  reckon  there  would;  bnt  what  good  would  it 
do  us  to  fight  so  many  men  ?  " 

"  They  are  all  cowards,  the  last  one  of  ^them," 
p.aid  Sidney.  "  It  is  my  opinion  that  after  one  or  two 
of  them  had  been  dropped  the  rest  would  be  glad  to 
haul  off." 

"  Perhaps  you're  right  ;  but  I,  for  one,  don't  want 
to  take  any  chances.  If  we  can  scare  Ike  Bishop 
out  of  the  country,  we  shall  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  guerrillas,  because  they  won't  be  able  to 
find  us." 

Just  then  Luke  Bennett  came  out  of  the  cabin, 
and  seated  himself  in  front  of  the  camp  fire. 

"I  have  written  two  letters,"  said  he;  "one  to 
mother,  and  the  other  to  Ike  Bishop." 

"  Ike  can't  read  his  letter,"  observed  Frank. 

"  That  isn't  my  fault.  If  he  knows  when  he  is 
well  off,  he  will  lose  no  time  in  finding  somebody  to 
read  it  for  him,  for  if  he  lingers  in  the  settlement  an 
hour  after  the  time  I  have  set  for  his  dei:)arturc — 
well,  he'll  wish  he  hadn't;  that's  all.  We've  got  a 
sorrowful  duty  to  perform  today,  boys,"  he  added, 
**and  that  is  to  bury  this  spy.  He  got  just  what  he 
deserved,  although  we  didn't  give  it  to  him  ;  but  he 
was  doing  his  duty  as  a  brave  man  should,  and  no 
doubt  his  death  will  bring  sorrow  to  more  than  one 
loving  heart.  This  has  been  an  exciting  night  for 
us;  but  let's  see  if  we  can't  get  a  wink  of  sleep." 

The  events  of  the  next  few  hours  can  be  summed 


LETTERS  OF  WARNING.  157 

up  in  a  few  words.  Shortly  after  daybreak  the  body 
of  the  B-pj  was  taken  to  the  main  land  and  consigned 
to  its  lonely  resting  place,  there  to  remain  until  the 
last  Grand  Keveille.  As  Tramp  did  not  put  in  an 
appearance,  Mrs.  Bennett  haying  no  news  to  com- 
municate to  the  boys  in  the  hide  out,  Sidney  Jones 
and  Frank  Barron  set  out  for  the  settlement  at  dark, 
to  deliver  the  letters  that  Captain  Belden  had 
brought  over  from  Vicksburg,  as  well  as  those  that 
Luke  had  written  to  his  mother  and  Ike  Bishop. 

Those  who  were  left  in  the  hide  out  sought  their 
beds  of  boughs  to  make  up  for  the  sleep  they  had 
lost  the  night  before.  About  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  they  were  awakened  by  voices  and  foot- 
stej^s  outside  the  cabin,  and  a  moment  later  Sidney 
and  Frank  came  in. 

"  Well,"  said  Luke,  raising  himself  on  his  elbow, 
"  how  did  our  women  folks  take  the  news  ?  '* 

"  Much  better  than  we  did,"  was  Sidney's  rejAj. 
"  Of  course  it  was  a  terrible  blow  to  them  to  know 
that  our  friends  in  Vicksburg  are  in  th^  guard  house, 
and  in  danger  of  being  tried  by  court  martial,  but 
they  bore  up  under  it  in  a  way  that  astonished  us. 
A  woman's  got  more  pluck  than  a  man  any  day." 

"  Did  you  learn  anything  about  Colonel  St.  Clair  ?" 

"  Not  a  word.  None  of  our  folks  have  heard  of 
him  since  he  came  into  the  swamp,  and  neither  have 
the  darkies,  whom  we  questioned.  They  are  around 
here  yet,  so  Ike  could  not  have  been  very  badly 
wounded." 

We  know  this  to  be  a  mistake  ;  but  as  the  colonel 
and  his  party  reached  home  after  dark,  and  Ike 
Bishop  took  the  most  extraordinary  pi*ecautions  to 
conceal  his  movements  when  he  went  up  in  the 
morning  to  call  upon  Captain  Ryder,  they  had  not 
been  seen  by  any  of  the  Union  people  in  the  settle- 
ment, and,   consequently,   there  was  no  one  who 


IBS  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

cou.d  give  Frank  and  Sidney  any  information  con- 
cerning them  or  their  movements.  The  colonel  and 
Captain  Griffin  lost  no  time  in  obeying  Luke  Ben- 
nett's order  to  leave  the  country,  but  instead  of 
going  back  to  the  army  in  Tennessee,  they  went 
somewhere  else,  as  we  shall  presently  see .  They  had 
not  yet  done  with  Luke  Bennett  and  the  Yankee 
dispatch  bearer  whom  he  had  taken  under  his  pro- 
tection. 

"  So  they  are  in  the  swamp  yet !  "  exclaimed  Luke. 
"  Then  Ike  Bishop  is  still  able  to  do  duty,  in  spite 
of  the  buckshot  that  Sid  sent  into  him.  That  knocks 
you,  Duckfoot.  You  are  blockaded  fast  enough;  but 
you  may  comfort  j^ourself  with  the  reflection  that 
they  can't  keep  you  here  forever.  AYhen  their 
leaves  of  absence  expire,  they  will  have  to  go  back 
where  they  belong." 

"  Great  Scott !  Have  I  got  to  wait  as  long  as  that  ?  " 
cried  Ned,  who  chafed  and  fretted  constantly  under 
his  enforced  inactivity.  "  Couldn't  I  slip  by  them 
in  the  dark  ?  '^ 

"  You  might,  but  how  much  better  off  would  you 
be,  since  there  is  no  one  in  this  party  who  could 
show  you  tlie  way  to  Rolling  Fork  after  nightfall  ?  " 

Ned  Marsh  was  greatly  disappointed.  He  hoped 
that  his  chum,  Bob  Andrews,  had  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  general's  flag  ship,  in  which  case  the 
dispatches  he  had  in  his  possession  would  be 
rendered  useless  ;  but  that  would  not  in  any  way 
relieve  him  of  his  responsibility.  He  had  been 
ordered  to  find  General  Sherman  before  he  returned 
to  the  Decatur,  and  he  intended  to  obey  that  order 
if  he  lived. 


A  DAEING  PROJECT.  159 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A   DARING    PROJECT. 

The  boys  slept  late  that  morning,  and  it  was  nine 
o'clock  when  Joe  Ramsay  sat  up  on  his  bed  of 
boughs,  and,  after  listening  a  moment,  aroused  his 
companions  by  calling  out: 

"  Wake  up,  you  sleepy  heads  !  Here's  news  for 
us.     I  can  hear  Tramp  coming.     Sam!" 

"  Yes,  sah,"  replied  the  old  negro,  who  was  in  the 
act  of  pushing  one  of  the  canoes  into  the  water.  "  I 
gwine  start  right  now,  sah.  Bes'  git  up  in  dar.  De 
bacon  done  cooked." 

It  is  not  probable  that  the  boys  would  have  been 
in  any  great  hurry  to  answer  the  call  to  breakfast, 
but  the  announcement  that  Tramj)  was  approaching 
their  hide  out  brought  them  to  their  feet  in  short 
order.  By  the  time  they  reached  the  camp  fire, 
over  which  Sam  had  been  preparing  the  bacon  and 
slap  jacks,  the  old  fellow  had  disappeared  in  the 
cane.  When  he  came  back,  at  the  end  of  half  an 
hour,  Tramp  at  once  sprang  ashore,  and  seemed 
anxious  to  show  his  master  the  letter  that  was  tied 
to  his  collar.  Luke  unfastened  the  string,  took  off 
the  piece  of  oiled  silk  that  was  wrapped  around  it, 
read  a  line  or  two  at  the  beginning  of  the  letter,  and 
then  stopped  and  shook  his  fist  in  the  air. 

"  Of  all  the  impudent  scoundrels  I  ever  heard  of, 
that  Amos  Ryder  is  the   beat,"  said  he,  with  sup- 


leO  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OQT. 

pressed  fury.  "  After  wrecking  my  mother's  house, 
ho  has  the  assurance  to  go  there  again.  Just  listen 
to  this: 

My  dear  Luke,— I  had  a  visitor  stiortly  before  daylight 
this  morning,  and  who  do  vou  thinit  it  was  ?  It  was  none  other 
than  Captain  Kyder,  who  has  been  deposed  by  his  men,  on  ac- 
count of  his  failure  to  find  that  money.  How  they  could  blame 
him  for  it  I  am  sure  I  can't  imagine.  He  came  to  assure  me 
that  from  this  time  forward  he  will  be  your  steadfast  friend, 
and  tliat  he  will  keep  me  posted  regarding  the  mov(anents  of 
the  guerrillas.  To  prove  ne  was  in  earnest,  he  told  me  that 
Kaziah  Bowles,  the  man  who  has  been  selected  by  the  company 
to  fill  his  place,  has  detailed  twentv  men  who  are  to  set  out  at 
daylight,  in  canoes,  and  patrol  the  Hoi  ling  Fork  as  far  dovm  as 
"Yazoo  Kiver;  so  vou  see  that  it  will  be  quite  impossible  ft)r 
that  gunboat  officer  to  deliver  his  dispatches  at  present.  The 
rest  of  the  company  are  to  leave  their  homes  and  camp  in  the 
Bw^amp,  about  two  miles  from  the  settlement,  and  devote  their 
energies  to  building  Ilatboats.  As  soon  as  a  sufficient  number 
have  been  comph^ted,  the  entire  com])anv  will  set  out,  with  Ike 
Bishop  for  a  guide,  to  make  an  assault  upon  your  hide  out. 

This  news  is  bad  enough,  and  it  troubles  me  greatly;  but  it  Is 
not  the  worst  that  Captain  Ryder  told  me.  Colonel  St.  Clair 
and  Captain  Griffin  left  their  homos  at  an  early  hour  yesterday 
morning,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  you  and  Joe  left  with  their 
families,  but  they  did  not  return  to  Tennessee.  They  wont 
over  to  Vicksburg 

**  That's  the  worst  piece  of  news  I  have  heard  re- 
garding Colonel  St.  Clair,"  exclaimed  Sidney  Jones. 
*'  We're  going  to  see  trouble  now,  as  sure  as  you're 
a  foot  high." 

"  Our  hide  out  is  just  as  good  as  broken  up.  Mark 
what  I  tell  you,"  chimed  in  Joe  Ramsay. 

Luke  said  nothing,  but  there  was  a  troubled  look 
on  his  face  as  he  went  on  with  his  reading. 

—over  to  Vickslnirg,  intending  to  bring  back  men  enough  to 
take  you  prisontns;  so  you  see,  my  dear  boy,  that  your  troubles 
are  only  just  begmuing. 

Now,  Luke,  do  be  careful.  Remember  that  constant  watch- 
fulness is  the  price  of  your  liberty,  and  do  not,  for  one  nu)ment, 
relax  your  vigilance.  Affectionately,  Motuer. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that?"  inquired  Luke,  as 
he  folded  up  the  letter  and  put  it  into  his  pocket. 
"You  fellows  talk  it  over  among  yourselves  while  I 


LrKE    BEVNTETT    EEADTXG    HIS    MOTHER  S    LETTER. 


A  DARING  PROJECT.  161 

write  a  line  to  mother,  telling  her  that  we  always 
sleep  with  one  eye  and  both  ears  open,  and  that  it  is 
simply  impossible  for  an  enemy  to  surprise  us." 

"  Will  that  party  from  Vicksburg  assault  us  dur- 
ing the  daytime,  or  will  they  wait  until  after  dark  ?" 
asked  Frank  Barron,  as  Luke  turned  on  his  heel  and 
hastened  toward  the  cabin. 

"If  Colonel  St.  Clair  left  for  Vicksburg  early  yes- 
terday morning,  and  met  with  no  delay  in  securing 
aid,  he  ought  to  be  here  within  a  few  hours,"  observed 
Tom  Pike.  "He'll  pitch  into  us  the  minute  he 
comes  within  shooting  distance  of  the  hide  out,  be  it 
day  or  night." 

"  That's  what  I  think,"  said  Joo.  "  What  would 
you  advise  us  to  do,  Duckfoot  ?" 

"  Well,  then,  my  advice  is  that  you  pack  all  your 
valuables  into  your  canoes,  leave  the  hide  out  and  go 
farther  back  into  the  swamp,"  said  Ned.  "  You  can't 
successfully  resist  either  of  the  forces  by  which  you 
are  threatened,  and  the  only  thing  you  can  do  is  to 
run." 

"  That's  my  idea,"  exclaimed  Luke  Bennett,  look- 
ing up  from  his  writing,  "  I'll  add  a  postscript  to 
this  note  telling  mother  not  to  send  Tramp  down 
here  any  more  at  present,  for  we  shall  not  be  here 
to  receive  him.  It  ought  to  be  perfectly  safe  for  us 
to  go  to  the  settlement  for  our  information,  seeing 
that  the  guerrillas  are  all  going  to  camp  in  the 
swamp  while  they  are  building  those  flatboats." 

"  Look  here,"  said  Ned  Marsh,  a  bright  idea  sud- 
denly occurring  to  him.  "  The  officers  and  men  of 
our  navy  have  often  performed  a  very  brilliant  ex- 
ploit, which  is  called  'cutting  out.'" 

"I  know  what  that  is,"  interrupted  Joe.  "It  is 
capturing  a  vessel  in  an  enemy's  harbor." 

"  Exactly.  Now,  if  Kyder  can  be  induced  to  tell 
Mrs.  Bennett  when  those  flatboats  are  completed, 


162  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

wbat's  the  reason  we  can't  slip  up  there  some  dark 
night  and  cut  them  out?" 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  them  after  we  get  them  ?" 
asked  Joe.  "  We  can't  tow  them  away  through  this 
thick  swamp  on  a  dark  night.  We  shall  be  running 
into  trees  all  the  time." 

"  We  can  tow  them  a  hundred  3^ards,  or  so,  if  we 
are  quiet  about  it,  and  then  destroy  them,  can't  we  ?" 
demanded  Ned. 

"  Bat  the  guerrillas  are  cami:>ed  right  there,  and 
won't  the  sound  of  our  axes  draw  their  fire  ?"  in- 
quired Tom. 

"  Great  Scott !  We  don't  want  to  break  the  boats 
up  with  axes,"  exclaimed  the  young  officer.  "  Haven't 
you  fellows  any  augers  on  your  plantations  ?" 

"Why,  of  course  we  have,"  said  Frank,  with  a 
laugh.     "  I  didn't  think  of  that." 

"  Duckfoot,"  said  Luke,  coming  out  of  the  cabin 
with  his  letter  in  his  hand,  "  you're  a  brick.  I  tell 
you  we're  not  beaten  yet." 

Luke  tied  the  letter  to  Tramp's  collar,  and  the  old 
negro  made  ready  to  take  him  ashore.  Sam  showed 
a  good  deal  of  the  whites  of  his  eyes  while  he  was 
putting  his  canoe  into  the  water,  for  the  conversa- 
tion to  which  he  had  just  listened  had  frightened 
him  nearly  out  of  his  senses. 

"Mind  what  you  are  about,"  cautioned  Sidney 
Jones.  "  Colonel  St.  Clair  has  had  i^lenty  of  time  to 
return  with  a  company  of  graybacks,  and  they  may 
be  loafing  around  out  there  now,  for  all  wo  know. 
Don't  let  them  get  sight  of  you,  for  if  you  do,  they 
will  make  a  mule  whacker  of  you,  sure." 

Old  Sam  pushed  off  without  making  any  reply, 
and  Luke  and  his  companions,  believing  that  they 
were  in  danger  as  long  as  they  remained  in  the  hide 
out,  at  once  began  making  preparations  to  leave  it, 
and  seek  safety  deeper  in  the  swamp. 


A  DAHING  PROJECT.  163 

They  worked  to  such  good  x^iirpose  that  by  the 
time  Sam  returned  they  were  ready  for  the  start. 
They  had  nothing  to  take  with  them  except  their 
clothing,  provisions,  ammunition  and  weapons.  Not 
a  word  was  said  about  money,  and  this  led  Ned 
Marsh  to  believe  tliat  the  treasure  that  Colonel  St. 
Clair  wanted  to  find  was  not  concealed  in  or  about 
the  hide  out.  In  fact  Luke  Bennett  said  so,  as  he 
deposited  the  last  basketful  of  potatoes  in  his 
canoe. 

"  I  suppose  that  when  the  colonel  and  Ike  Bishoj) 
find  our  island  they  will  think  themselves  rich  men," 
he  remarked  with  a  smile.  "  There's  where  they 
are  going  to  get  fooled.  See  anything  suspicious 
out  there  ?  "  he  inquired,  as  the  old  darky  pushed 
the  bow  of  his  canoe  upon  the  bank. 

"  No,  sail,"  replied  Sam,  whose  look  and  tone  of 
voice  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  regarded  his  escape 
from  cajDture  as  something  that  was  little  short  of  a 
miracle.     "Nobody  out  dar  yet.  Moss'  Luke." 

Each  member  of  the  party  had  a  canoe  to  himself, 
and  they  shoved  off  in  the  order  in  which  their  boats 
lay  upon  the  bank,  Luke  Bennett  leading  the  way, 
and  old  Sam  bringing  ujd  the  rear. 

As  they  moved  out  of  the  cane  into  the  open 
swamp,  they  closely  scrutinized  every  tree  and 
thicket  within  the  range  of  their  vision,  but  could 
not  see  anything  to  excite  their  alarm.  The  swamp 
appeared  to  be  deserted  by  all  save  themselves;  but 
Mrs.  Bennett's  letter  had  warned  them  that  such 
was  not  the  case.  A  score  of  rufiians  had  been 
paddling  up  and  down  Eolling  Fork  ever  since  sun- 
rise that  morning,  and  now  they  had  been  joined  by 
as  many  more,  and  the  whole  force,  commanded  by  a 
rebel  staff  officer,  and  guided  by  Colonel  St.  Clair 
and  Captain  Griffin,  was  moving  rapidly  upon  the 
hide  out. 


ir,4  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

Forty  men  against  six  boys !  It  wan  no  wonder 
that  Colonel  St.  Clair  felt  sure  of  success,  or  that  he 
and  Captain  Griffin  told  each  other  that  they  would 
be  rich  men  before  they  went  into  camp. 

As  soon  as  Luke  was  clear  of  the  cane,  he  turned 
his  canoe  to  a  right  oljliqiie,  and  followed  nearly  the 
same  course  that  he  and  Joe  Ramsay  pursued  when 
they  went  ashore  to  deliver  those  letters  of  warning. 
The  thickest  part  of  the  swamp  lay  in  that  direction. 

When  they  had  gone  about  half  a  mile  they  came 
to  a  dense  canebrake.  AVlien  they  entered  it,  they 
would  bo  out  of  sight  of  the  hide  out,  and  so  se- 
curely hidden  that  a  regiment  of  men  might  have 
searched  for  them  in  vain.  Here  Luke  Bennett 
stopped  paddling,  and  brought  his  canoe  to  a  stand- 
still. 

"  I  should  really  like  to  know  whether  or  not  we 
have  been  frightened  without  cause,"  said  he,  as  the 
other  canoes  crowded  up  around  his  own,  "  and  if 
you  fellows  will  go  on  to  the  old  bee  tree,  and  make 
a  camp  there,  I'll  stay  here  and  watch  for  a  little 
while.  Sid,  be  good  enough  to  hand  out  a  piece  of 
bread,  and  a  slice  of  that  cold  bacon.  I  may  get 
hungry  before  I  see  you  again." 

After  a  little  search  among  the  proYisions,  Sidney 
found  and  passed  over  a  substantial  lunch,  and  then 
led  the  way  into  the  cane. 

As  soon  as  his  friends  disappeared,  Luke  Bennett 
pushed  his  canoe  into  the  cane  just  far  enough  to 
conceal  it  from  the  observation  of  any  one  who  might 
happen  to  pass  through  the  open  swamp.  Then 
stretching  himself  out  flat  in  the  bow,  ho  waited  to 
see  what  was  going  to  happen. 


A  BARREN  VICTORY.  IG^ 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A    B  A  R  R  E  N    V  I  C  T  O  R  Y. 

For  au  hour  or  more  Luke  Bennett  lay  almost 
motionless  on  the  bottom  of  Lis  canoe,  his  chin  rest- 
ing on  his  arms,  and  his  eyes  peering  through  the 
cane  toward  the  deserted  hide  out.  Then  he  was 
aroused  from  a  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen  by  a 
slight  splashing  in  the  water  off  to  the  right. 

He  turned  his  gaze  in  the  direction  from  which 
the  sound  came,  but  the  cane  was  so  thick  that  he 
could  not  see  two  feet  beyond  the  side  of  his  canoe. 

A  moment  later,  however,  two  large  skiffs,  both 
loaded  to  the  water's  edge  a\  ith  rebel  soldiers,  came 
out  from  among  the  trees,  and  passed  slowly  across 
the  open  swamp  in  front  of  his  hiding  place.  They 
were  so  close  to  him  that  he  could  have  dis- 
tinguished the  color  of  their  eyes,  if  they  had  turned 
their  faces  toward  him  ;  but  they  all  kept  their  gaze 
fastened  upon  the  thicket  of  bushes  and  cane  that 
concealed  the  hide  out. 

"  I  am  almost  ready  to  forgive  Ryder  for  smashing 
my  mother's  i)iano,"  soliloquized  Luke,  as  he 
watched  the  movements  of  the  soldiers.  "  Hallo  ! 
There's  another  party  of  them,"  he  added,  as  he 
looked  past  the  skiffs  in  his  immediate  front,  and 
saw  two  more  boat  loads  of  soldiers  deeper  in  the 
swamp.  They  were  taking  their  positions  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hide  out,  which  was  now  com- 
pletely surrounded. 


106  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  I  am  verj'  glad  that  Amos  Eyder's  men  got  mad 
at  liim,  and  kicked  him  out  of  the  company,"  said 
Luke  to  himself.  "  If  he  hadn't  told  mother  what 
Colonel  St.  Clair  had  made  up  his  mind  to  do,  we 
should  have  been  captured  as  sure  as  the  world. 
Now,  doesn't  St.  Clair  deserve  some  punishment  for 
this  ?  I  have  half  a  mind  to  touch  a  match  to  his 
house  this  very  night." 

The  skiffs  on  tlio  opposite  side  of  the  hide  out 
disappeared  from  Luke's  view  while  he  was  talking 
to  himself  in  this  way,  and  the  two  that  were  nearest 
him  separated  and  apj^roached  tlie  island  from 
different  directions. 

No  sooner  had  they  taken  up  their  positions  than 
a  chorus  of  hideous  yells  rang  through  the  swamp 
— real  rebel  yells,  such  as  the  boys  in  blue  have  of- 
ten heard  when  the  enemy  was  charging  upon  their 
lines.  The  yells  must  have  been  intended  for  a 
signal  to  the  men  on  Luke's  side  of  the  hide  out,  for 
they  yelled  lustily  in  return,  and,  droj^ping  their 
oars  into  the  water,  sent  their  skiffs  rapidly  toward 
the  island. 

Luke  waited  to  see  no  more.  It  would  not  take 
the  rebels  many  minutes  to  discover  that  the  boys 
they  had  been  so  certain  of  capturing  had  slipped 
through  their  fingers  very  neatly,  and  then  they 
would  probably  begin  a  vigorous  pursuit,  spreading 
themselves  through  the  swamp,  and  looking  every- 
where for  a  trail. 

"  But  they  will  have  their  trouble  for  their  pains," 
thought  Luke,  as  he  sat  up  in  his  canoe,  and  pulled 
himself  along  by  grasj^ing  the  cane  on  each  side. 
*'As  fast  as  I  pass  along  the  cane  closes  up  behind 
me,  and  consequently  I  don't  leave  any  trail." 

Congratulating  himself  on  his  narrow  esca2)e  from 
capture,  Luke  worked  industriously  to  force  his 
way  through  the  canebrake,  pausing  now  and  then 


A  BARREN  VICTORY.  167 

to  listen.  But  if  there  was  any  pursuit  made  he  did 
not  know  it. 

The  disappointed  and  angry  commander  of  the 
attacking  party  knew  that  it  would  be  worse  than 
useless  to  attempt  to  follow  fugitives  who  were  as 
well  acquainted  with  the  swamp  as  Luke  Bennett 
and  his  companions  were;  and  so,  after  consultation 
with  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  Captain  Griffin,  he  de- 
cided to  camp  in  the  hide  out,  and  try  another  i^lan. 
He  did  not  mean  to  go  back  to  Vicksburg  without 
those  boys  if  he  could  help  it.  What  that  i^lan  was 
I  will  tell  you  presently. 

It  took  Luke  four  long  hours  to  work  his  way 
through  the  canebrake;  and  although  he  had  noth- 
ing but  the  sun  to  guide  him,  and  that  luminary 
changed  his  position  in  the  heayens  a  good  many 
degrees  during  those  four  hours,  the  young 
refugee  did  not  miss  the  old  bee  tree  by  so  much  as 
one  hundred  yards. 

His  companions  were  awaiting  his  arrival  with  no 
little  impatience.  They  had  erected  a  commodious 
lean  to  at  the  foot  of  the  tree;  a  fire  was  burning 
in  front  of  it,  and  there  was  an  odor  of  bacon  and 
coffee  on  the  air  that  made  Luke  hungry. 

"  We  got  away  just  in  time,  didn't  we  ?"  said  Tom 
Pike,  as  he  seized  the  bow  of  Luke's  canoe  and  drew 
it  upon  the  bank.  "  We  know  they've  come,  because 
we  heard  them  yelling." 

"  Yes,  sir,  they've  come,"  replied  Luke.  "  I  don't 
know  how  many  of  them  there  were,  but  I  saw  four 
boat  loads.  Some  of  them  passed  so  close  to  my 
hiding  place  that  I  dared  not  move  a  hand,  for  fear 
of  attracting  their  attention.  They  were  very  quiet 
until  they  got  the  hide  out  surrounded,  and  then 
they  raised  their  charging  yell  and  dashed  in.  I 
would  give  something  if  I  could  have  seen  St.  Clair's 
face  when  he  found  that  his  birds  had  flown." 


10«  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Sidney.  "  That  empty  hide 
out  must  have  told  him  that  we  knew  as  much  about 
his  contemplated  movement  as  he  did  himself." 

As  there  were  no  alarm  bells  in  their  new  camp 
to  warn  them  of  the  approach  of  an  enemy,  the  boys 
thought  it  best  to  stand  guard  that  night.  Ned 
Marsh  volunteered  to  stand  from  eight  o'clock  until 
twelve;  and  as  Luke  did  not  feel  at  all  sleepy,  he 
offered  to  sit  up  with  him. 

The  night  passed  without  an  alarm  of  any  kind. 
Indeed  the  boys  were  in  no  danger  of  attack,  Colonel 
St.  Clair  and  his  party  of  rebels  being  more  than 
ten  miles  distant. 

"  I  should  really  like  to  know  where  those  fellows 
are  and  what  they  are  doing,"  said  Sidney,  after  he 
had  disposed  of  his  share  of  the  bacon  and  slapjacks 
that  were  served  up  for  breakfast.  "  Tom,  suppose 
you  and  I  take  one  of  the  canoes  and  do  a  little 
scouting." 

"  All  right.  Let's  go  around  the  canebrake.  It 
is  hard  work  to  force  a  canoe  through  it." 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that,  boys,"  said  Luke,  hastily. 
"  1  don't  believe  that  those  soldiers  have  gone  back 
to  Vicksburg.  They  are  looking  for  us,  you  may 
depend  upon  that  ;  and  if  they  should  see  you  be- 
fore you  see  them,  they  would  either  capture  or 
shoot  you.  My  advice  to  you  is  to  kee]:>  clear  of  the 
open  swamp,  and  stick  to  the  cane.  AMiatever  you 
do,  don't  go  near  the  hide  out.  No  matter  whether 
you  see  anybody  around  there  or  not,  don't  go  near 
it.  It  will  be  time  enough  for  us  to  go  back 
when  Ryder  tells  mother  that  those  soldiers  have 
returned  to  the  city." 

"  And  when  we  go  back,  we  shall  find  a  bed  of 
ashes,  and  nothing  else,"  observed  Joe.  "  Of  course 
they  will  burn  us  out." 

It  was  hard  work  to  pull  a  canoe  through  that 


A  BARREN  VICTORY.  169 

thick  canebrake;  but  Sidney  and  Tom  saw  the  force 
of  Luke's  reasoning,  and  thought  it  best  to  follow 
his  advice.  They  set  out  at  once,  and  the  day  was 
well  silent  before  their  companions  saw  them  again. 

"You're  always  right,  Luke  Bennett,"  were  the 
first  words  that  fell  from  Sidney's  lips.  "Those 
rebs  are  camped  in  our  hide  out.  We  saw  some  of 
them  rowing  around  as  if  they  were  taking  a  look 
at  things;  and  while  we  sat  in  the  cane  watching 
them,  we  discovered  a  boat  load  of  them  coming 
around  the  east  end  of  the  canebrake." 

"  Aha  !"  exclaimed  Luke.  "  They  were  out  scout- 
ing, too;  and  if  3'ou  had  gone  around  the  cane,  as 
you  thought  of  doing,  you  might  havp  run  right 
into  them  before  you  knew  it." 

"  That's  the  idea,"  said  Tom.  "  Now,  what  are 
they  hanging  around  out  there  for  ?  Do  they  expect 
Us  to  go  back  to  the  hide  out  and  be  captured  ?" 

"I  don't  know;  but  I  am  going  home  tonight  to 
ask  mother  if  she  knows,"  answered  Luke.  "  The 
rebels  are  here  in  the  swamp,  the  guerrillas  are 
camped  two  miles  from  the  settlement,  building  flat- 
boats,  and  I  think  it  will  be  perfectly  safe  for  me  to 
give  mother  a  call.  Will  you  go  with  me,  Duckfoot? 
She  said  she  would  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"  I  will,"  replied  Ned,  readily. 

He  went;  and  in  the  next  chapter  I  will  tell  you 
of  the  adventure  that  befell  him  before  he  saw  the 
old  bee  tree  again. 


170  LUKE  BENNETTS  U1I>E  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

RYDER    PROVES    UIS    FllIENDSIIIP. 

"  Things  in  and  about  our  house  do  not  look  much 
as  they  did  before  the  Avar.  Every  carpet  mother 
had  was  long  ago  cut  up  into  blankets,  and  sent  to 
the  conscripts  in  Vicksburg,  together  with  every- 
thing in  the  shape  of  bed  clothing  that  she  co-iild 
spare;  our  stock  has  been  killed  off;  the  horses  and 
mules  confiscated  by  the  rebels;  and  I  am  expect- 
ing to  hear  every  day  that  those  guerrillas  have 
killed  the  few  cows  that  we  have  hidden  in  the 
cane." 

So  spoke  Luke  Bennett,  as  he  and  Ned  Marsh 
trudged  across  the  old  cotton  field  toward  the  home 
of  the  young  refugee.  Some  migiit  have  said  that 
they  were  foolhardy  in  thus  exposing  themselves  to 
capture  at  the  hands  of  Kaziah  Bowles  and  his  men, 
for  it  was  a  clear,  starlight  night.  But  they  took 
their  chances  on  that,  and,  besides,  they  carried  nine 
shots  in  their  weapons,  and  were  preixired  to  make 
a  stubborn  fight. 

"  If  you  had  happened  down  here  before  the 
North  and  South  got  to  pulling  hair,  I  could  have 
mounted  you  on  as  fine  a  filly  as  you  ever  saw,"  con- 
tinued Luke,  and  his  companion  was  sure  that  he 
could  detect  a  tremor  in  his  tones.  "  She  was  of 
the  old  Denmark  stock,  came  from  Kentucky,  and 
cost  the  snug  sum  of  two  thousand  dollars,  being 
what   is   called   a   "  gaited "  nag.     The   horse   that 


EYDER  PROVES  HIS  FRIENDSHIP.  171 

used  to  take  my  older  brother  on  his  gallops  about 
the  country  cost  twice  as  much." 

"  Where  are  they  now?"  inquired  Ned. 

"  Dead,  I  hope,  for  I  should  be  sorry  to  think  that 
those  two  cavalry  officers  who  stole  them  had  been 
enjoying  rides  on  them  all  this  wJiile.  The  one  who 
took  my  brother's  horse  rode  him  up  in  front  of  the 
porch,  with  the  remark :  '  Well,  Gus  Bennett,  if  you 
won't  do  duty  for  the  Confederacy,  you  may  bet 
your  last  dollar  that  your  horse  will;'  and  Gus  was 
so  mad  that  it  was  all  mother  could  do  to  keep  him 
from  shooting.  I  wish  you  could  know  Gus.  He's 
a  splendid  fellow,  if  he  is  my  brother.  But  he  is 
tied  up  hard  and  fast  in  Vicksburg,  and  if  he  isn't 
shot  or  hanged  for  helping  Proctor,  or  killed  in 
battle,  he  will  be  captured  w^hen  Grant  takes  the 
city." 

"  That's  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  to  him," 
replied  Ned,  "  and  you  ought  to  pray  for  it  every 
hour  in  the  day." 

"  But  suppose  '  unconditional  surrender  '  should 
ship  the  whole  business  off  to  Camp  Douglas,  or 
Johnson's  Island  ?  We  would  stand  no  chance  at  all 
of  seeing  our  friends." 

"  But  he  won't  do  it.  Your  father  and  brother 
will  have  to  be  jDaroled,  because  the  rebs  haven't 
prisoners  enough  to  give  in  exchange.  I  happen  to 
know  that  there  is  a  Confederate  commissioner  in 
Vicksburg,  who  is  authorized  to  attend  to  all  such 
business.  What  I  am  afraid  of  is,  that  Pemberton 
will  hurry  his  men  into  camp  in  order  to  keejD  them 
together  until  they  are  exchanged.  If  he  lets  them 
go  home,  he  will  never  see  the  most  of  them 
again." 

"You're  right  there,"  said  Luke,  earnestly.  "To 
quote  from  old  Sam:  'One  time  fool  is  no  fool;  but 
two  three  times  fool  is  big  fool.'    If  our  friends 


172  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

onco  succeed  in  getting  out  from  under  the  eye  of 
their  officers  they  Avill  never  shoulder  a  musket 
again.  Now,  hero  we  are,"  continued  Luke,  halting 
for  a  moment  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  to  whis2)er  a 
word  of  caution  to  the  young  officer.  "Ifnjother 
should  learn  that  Colonel  8t.  Clair  has  made  an  at- 
tack upon  our  liide  out  with  a  party  of  soldiers  at 
his  hack,  it  would  trouble  her  exceedingly;  so  he 
careful  and  not  give  her  a  Jiint  of  it.  The  Johnnies 
will  go  back  when  they  find  that  they  can't  make 
anything  by  loafing  about  in  the  swamp,  and  then 
we  will  tell  her  all  about  it.     Come  on." 

So  saying,  Luke  mounted  the  steps,  and  ushered 
his  companion  into  the  presence  of  his  mother  and 
the  faithful  old  "  mammy."  The  latter,  true  to  the 
instincts  of  her  race,  at  once  sprang  to  her  feet,  and 
began  calling  down  Heaven's  choicest  blessings 
upon  the  head  of  "  her  boy,"  while  the  mother  wound 
her  arms  about  the  neck  of  her  stalwart  son,  laid  her 
head  upon  his  broad  shoulder,  and  cried  silently. 
Ned  Marsh  turned  away  to  hide  his  own  tears,  and 
told  himself  that  there  was  something  incongruous 
in  the  picture  that  was  presented  to  his  gaze — the 
uncarpeted  floor,  the  bare  walls,  from  which  the 
paper  had  been  torn  in  strips  by  Ryder's  frantic 
men,  the  rough  deal  table,  the  stiff  backed  kitchen 
chairs,  and  the  handsome,  stately  lady  in  her  rich 
silk  dress.  But  it  was  cheaper  for  her  to  wear  old 
silk  dresses  than  to  bu}^  new  calico  ones;  and,  be- 
sides, where  Avas  the  calico  to  come  from  as  long  as 
Vicksburg  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Confeder- 
ates? Suddenly  the  sorrowing  mother  and  son 
seemed  to  remember  that  they  were  not  alone. 

"Pardon  me,  Mr.  Marsh,"  said  Mrs.  Bennett,  re- 
leasing herself  from  Luke's  encircling  arm,  and  ex- 
tending both  hands  toward  the  3'oung  gunbontman, 
**  but  my  burden  is  very  hard  to  bear,  and  sometimes 


RYDER  PROVES  HIS  FRIENDSHIP,  173 

I  sink  under  it.  Do  you  think  that  the  rebels  wiU 
be  so  very  severe  with  our  people  in  Vicksburg  ? 
You  don't,  do  you  ?" 

"  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Bennett,  that  I  sympathize 
with  you  deeply,"  replied  Ned,  while  his  voice  trem- 
bled, and  a  big  lump  rose  in  his  throat.  *'The 
longer  I  stay  here,  the  more  clearly  do  I  see  the  full 
significance  of  what  Luke  once  said  to  me :  '  It  costs 
something  to  be  loyal  down  here.'  I  really  wish  I 
could  say  a  comforting  word  to  you,  but  I  can't.  I 
never  heard  o.f  such  a  case  before,  but  j^our  friends 
will  certainly  have  to  stand  a  court  martial  for  help- 
ing our  spy." 

"It's  a  hanging  or  shooting  offense,  and  that's 
just  all  there  is  about  it,"  Luke  blurted  out. 
"  Mother,  you  will  never  see  father  or  Gus  again, 
and  you  might  as  well  make  up  your  mind  to  it  first 
as  last." 

"But  I  shall  see  you  every  few  days." 

"Yes;  but  they " 

Luke  was  about  to  say  that  Colonel  St.  Clair  and 
his  company  of  men  from  Vicksburg  had  tried  hard 
enough  to  catch  him,  but  he  checked  himself  in  time, 
and  began  looking  about  the  room;  though  Heaven 
knows  there  was  little  enough  to  be  seen  there. 
Then,  noticing  that  his  mother's  eyes  were  fastened 
inquiringly  upon  him,  he  said,  little  dreaming  how 
soon  his  words  would  be  verified: 

"But  they  may  some  day  find  out  where  we  live^ 
and  give  us  a  lively  race  for  life  and  liberty.  Sit 
down,  Duckfoot.  What  about  those  flatboats  that 
Bowles  is  building?  Have  you  heard  any  more 
concerning  them  ?" 

Mrs.  Bennett  replied  that  she  had  not.  She  knew 
that  the  company  had  been  marched  into  the  swamp, 
that  the  guerrillas  had  stolen  all  the  lumber  in  the 
settlement  that  they  could  ^et  hold  of,  and  that  was 


174  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HmE  OUT. 

the  extent  of  her  information;  hut  it  was  Riifficient 
to  make  her  very  uueas}'.  "What  would  Luke  and 
his  friends  do  when  attacked  by  so  Large  a  force 
of  men  as  Captain  Bowles  could  bring  against 
tliem  ? 

"We  are  not  going  to  l)e  attacked  bj-  them,  or  by 
anybody  else,"  said  Luke,  confidently.  "  Make  your 
mind  eas}^  on  that  score.  Open  communication 
with  Amos  as  soon  as  you  can — I  don't  su2:>pose  that 
ho  will  have  the  face  to  show  himself  to  you  after 
what  he  has  done — and  tell  him  to  keep  a  close 
watch  over  those  boats,  and  send  you  word  the  min- 
ute they  are  completed  and  ready  for  sailing.  Give 
Ryder  to  understand  very  distinctly  that  we  put  no 
faith  whatever  in  his  words;  he  must  do  something 
if  he  wants  to  have  us  believe  that  he  is  sincere. 
When  the  boats  are  done,  send  us  information  by 
Tramp,  and — and " 

*'  And  what  ?"  said  his  mother,  inquiringly.  "  Luke, 
what  reckless  thing  are  yon  going  to  do  now  ?" 

"  Nothing  reckless  at  all,  I  assure  you.  We'll 
play  a  Yankee  trick  on  Mr.  Bowles  and  his  valiant 
followers.  Now,  mother,  don't  you  worry.  We  are 
well  aw\are  that  Ike  Bishop  knows  where  our  hide  out 
is,  and  if  he  ever  succeeds  in  piloting  that  gang  of 
ruffians  down  there,  he  will  have  his  trouble  for  his 
pains,  for  we  won't  be  there.  That's  a  j-yretty  big- 
swamp,  and  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  for  us  to 
slip  out  and  hunt  uj)  another  hiding  place." 

"  Not  if  they  surprise  you,"  said  IVIrs.  Bennett. 

"But  they  can't  surprise  us.  That's  one  of  the 
mysteries  connected  with  our  hide  out,  and  some 
dav,  when  I  have  plenty  of  time,  I  will  tell  vou  all 
about  it.     Great  Scott !     What's  that  V" 

Just  then  hasty  footsteps  sounded  on  the  porch,  a 
hand  was  laid  upon  the  latch,  the  door  sprung 
quickly  but  noiselessly  open,  and  a  uale,  scared  face, 


EYDEK  PROVES  HIS  FRIENDSHIP.  175 

the  face  of  Amos  Eyder,  the  ex  captain  of  the  guer- 
rilla band,  was  thrust  into  the  room.  In  an  instant 
it  was  covered  by  the  boy's  double  barrel. 

"  You  scoundrel !"  hissed  Luke,  between  his 
clinched  teeth.  "  Have  you  the  cheek  to  show 
yourself  among  white  folks  ?  It's  well  for  you  that 
Joe  Ramsay  isn't  here,  for  he  has  sworn  to  shoot 
you  on  sight." 

"  I  looked  fur  it,"  said  the  man,  in  a  scarcely  audi- 
ble whisi:)er,  "  an'  I  reckon  if  anybody's  got  a  call  to 
be  shot,  it's  me;  but,  Mr.  Luke,  I  come  here  this 
time  as  a  friend — 'deed  I  do.  Git  outen  here,  quick. 
If  you  stay  in  this  house  a  second  longer,  you  will 
be  gobbled  up  an'  tooken  over  to  Vicksburg,  sure. 
I  jes'  seen  a  hul  passel  of  men  comin'  up  the  road 
from  t'wards  the  swamp,  an'  Kurn  St.  Clair  is  with 
'em,  'cause  I  done  beared  his  voice.  Get  outen  here, 
quick  !" 

Luke  Bennett  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot,  and, 
throwing  his  arm  about  his  mother's  waist,  snatched 
one  hasty  parting  kiss  from  her  lips. 

'•  What  is  it,  Luke  ?"'  she  exclaimed.  "  What  new 
trouble  has  come  upon  us  ?" 

"Nothing  much,  mother,"  answered  the  boy, 
speaking  so  rapidly  that  the  words  seemed  to  come 
out  all  at  once,  "  only  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  the  men 
he  brought  over  from  Vicksburg  have  grown  tired 
of  the  swamp,  and  are  now  coming  up  here  to  see 
what  they  can  find." 

"Then  take  your  last  look  at  your  old  home,  for 
you  will  never  see  it  again,"  said  Mrs.  Bennett,  try- 
ing to  be  brave,  while  tears  filled  her  eyes. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  answered  Luke,  en- 
couragingly. "Burning  houses  is  a  game  two  can 
play  at.  The  colonel  has  a  family,  and  if  he  means 
that  roof  to  stay  over  their  heads  he  wdll  let  you 
alone.     How  many  of  them  are  there,  Ryder  ?" 


170  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  A'most  a  hull  comp'ny  of  'em,  I  reckon,"  was  the 
reply,  given  in  an  agitated  tone.  "  Be  you  uns  ever 
goin'  to  git  outon  here?  I  dassent  wait  no  longer, 
fur  if  they  ketch  me  hero  a  tellin'  of  you,  they'll  pop 
me  over  sure." 

"  I  know  that,  and  you  had  better  take  care  of 
yourself.  I  say,  Ryder,  this  makes  amends  for 
everything  except  smashing  my  mother's  piano, 
You'll  have  to  do  something  else  before  I  will  for- 
give you  for  that.  Good  by,  mother.  Come  on, 
Duckfoot." 

The  front  and  back  doors  closed  simultaneously; 
and  Amos  Ryder,  moving  with  long,  noiseless  strides, 
stole  off  in  one  direction,  while  the  boys  hastened 
away  in  another.  Before  Luke  and  his  companion 
had' gone  a  score  of  yards  they  saw  how  narrow  had 
been  their  escape  from  being  captured  in  the  house. 
A  delay  of  five  minutes  would  have  been  fatal  to 
them.  The  murmur  of  voices  which  had  attracted 
Ryder's  attention  was  huslied  now;  but  Luke's  eyes 
told  him  that  the  rebels  had  divided  their  force,  and 
while  one  portion  of  it  continued  its  march  up  the 
road,  the  other  was  making  a  detour  with  the  inten- 
tion of  surrounding  the  house. 

"  Crouch  low  so  as  to  bring  your  head  below  the 
horizon,"  whispered  Luke.  "  We  can't  go  directly 
back  to  our  canoe,  because  they  have  cut  us  off  from 
it  already;  so  we  will  have  to  strike  into  the  woods 
behind  the  quarter,  and  circle  round  to  it.  Quick 
and  still  is  the  word  now." 

As  Luke  said  this,  he  bent  himself  half  double, 
and  in  this  constrained  position  sped  along  witli  an 
easy  celerity  of  movement  that  Ned  Marsh  tried  in 
vain  to  imitate.  Luke  was  an  expert  at  deer  stalking. 
and  Ned  wasn't  ;  but  there  were  hunters  among  the 
approaching  rebels  who  were  quite  as  sharp  as  the 
young  refugee  was,  and  their  eyes  having  bocomo 


^YDER  PROVES  HIS  FRIENDSHIP.  Ill 

accustomed  to  the  darkness,  they  were  quick  to  dis- 
cover the  crouching  figures.  While  the  negro 
quarter,  toward  which  they  were  hastening,  was 
still  far  away,  the  fugitives  distinctly  heard  a  voice 
say  in  low  and  guarded  tones  : 

"I  see  something  scootin'  along  out  thar,  an'  I 
reckon  I'll  jes'  take  a  whack  at  it." 

"  I  wouldn't  shoot,"  cautioned  another,  "  for  if  you 
do,  you  will  alarm  all  the  folks  in  the  house.  No 
doubt  it  is  one  of  the  niggers'  dogs." 

Then  came  a  short  interval  of  silence,  during 
which  the  boys  did  some  of  the  best  walking  they 
had  ever  done  in  their  lives,  and  it  was  one  of  ter- 
rible suspense.  When  the  voice  sj)oke  again,  they 
saw  that  concealment  was  no  longer  possible. 


178  '  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

HIDING    IN    THE    CANE. 

"  No,  it  ain't  a  dog,  nuther,"  said  the  voice.  "  It's 
something  else."  Then  the  man  to  whom  the  voice 
belonged  threw  himself  j^rone  upon  the  ground,  to 
bring  the  rai^idly  moving  figures  between  himself 
and  the  lighter  background  of  the  sky.  He  held 
this  position  scarcely  a  moment,  and  jumped  to  his 
feet  with  an  exclamation  of  astonishment. 

"  It's  men,"  he  shouted.  "Dog  gone  my  buttons  ! 
It's  men.     Halt  thar !    Whoever  you  be,  halt !  " 

"  Now  for  it,  Duckfoot,"  said  Luke,  in  a  thrilling 
whisper.  "1  hope  you  are  good  at  running,  for 
nothing  but  leg  bail  will  save  us.  Keep  close  be- 
hind me,  and  I  will  lead  you  to  a  place  where  a 
regiment  of  men  couldn't  find  us." 

So  saying,  Luke  straightened  up  and  took  to  his 
heels,  holding  his  heavy  double  barrel  at  a  trail. 
He  did  not  run  straight  ahead,  but  sprang  from  side 
to  side,  and  ducked  and  straightened  up  again,  thus 
rendering  himself  a  very  uncertain  mark  to  shoot 
at  in  the  dim  light.  The  command  to  halt  was 
shouted  at  them  by  half  a  dozen  hoarse  voices;  but 
it  had  about  the  same  effect  upon  the  frightened 
boys  that  the  crack  of  a  whip  has  upon  a  spirited 
horse.  It  increased  their  speed,  and  the  rebels,  see- 
ing that  the  j^rizes  which  they  had  come  so  near 
capturing  were  likely  to  slip  through  their  fingers, 
opened  firo  upon  them, 


HIDING  m  THE  CANE.  179 

It  is  probable,  however,  that  the  erratic  move- 
ments of  the  fugitives  saved  their  lives,  for  they 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  cover  of  the  quarter  un- 
scathed, although  some  of  the  flying  bullets  came 
uncomfortably  near  to  their  heads.  Had  there  been 
a  double  barrel  or  two  among  their  pursuers,  the 
case  might  have  been  different. 

The  moment  the  boys  had  placed  the  negro  cabins 
between  themselves  and  their  pursuers,  they  settled 
down  to  business  and  ran  as  they  had  never  run  be- 
fore, the  hoarse  yells  and  imprecations  that  arose 
behind  them  giving  wings  to  their  feet. 

With  these  were  mingled  other  sounds — the  cries 
of  the  frightened  darkies,  who  swarmed  out  of  the 
quarter,  adding  their  shrieks  and  lamentations  to 
the  oaths  of  the  angry  rebels.  Among  them  all  they 
raised  a  fearful  hubbub,  and  while  it  was  at  its 
height  the  fugitives  dashed  into  a  canebrake  and 
disappeared  from  view. 

"Halt  here,  Duckfoot,"  whispered  Luke,  after 
they  had  with  infinite  difficulty  worked  their  way 
about  twenty  yards  into  the  cane.  "They'll  not 
follow  us  farther,  because  they  know  that  we  can 
shoot  them  as  fast  as  they  come  up.  Besides,  they 
stand  about  as  much  chance  of  finding  us  as  they 
would  of  finding  a  needle  in  a  haystack." 

At  that  moment  the  foremost  of  their  pursuers 
reached  the  edge  of  the  cane,  and,  as  if  to  confirm 
Luke's  words,  one  of  them,  evidently  an  officer,  said: 

"The  jig's  ujo,  boys.  They  have  reached  a  safe 
hiding  place." 

"You  must  not  continue  tiie  pursuit,  captain," 
said  the  voice  of  Colonel  St.  Clair.  "  If  you  should 
go  in  there  you  would  go  to  your  death." 

"  A\Tiat  did  I  tell  you,  Duckfoot  ?  "  said  Luke, 
triumphautly.  "They  are  as  much  afraid  of  us  now 
as  we  were  of  them  a  few  minutes  ago.     More  than 


180  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

^one  recruiting  officer  has  followed  a  conscript  into 
the  cane  and  never  come  out  again  to  tell  whether 
he  found  him  or  not." 

"  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  go  in  there,"  said  a 
voice  ;  and  the  boys  were  right  in  supposing  that  it 
belonged  to  the  officer  to  whom  the  colonel's  words 
of  warning  were  addressed.  "I  have  left  more  than 
one  deserter  to  go  his  way  in  peace,  just  because  he 
took  refuge  in  a  canebrake.  Now,  what  is  the  next 
thing  on  the  programme  ?  The  settlement  has  been 
aroused,  and  if  there  were  any  more  of  these  swamp 
foxes  home  on  a  visit,  they  have  had  plenty  of  time 
in  which  to  make  their  escape.  And  j'ou  say  you 
don't  want  me  to  destroy  the  houses  of  the  Union 
people?" 

"By  no  means,"  answered  the  colonel,  hastily; 
"  and  neither  must  you  permit  your  men  to  offer  the 
slightest  indignity  to  Mrs.  Bennett  and  the  rest.  If 
you  do,  Luke  will  come  out  of  the  swamp  and  burn 
my  house." 

"  Then  there  seems  to  be  nothing  left  for  me  but 
to  go  back  to  the  city  as  empty  handed  as  I  came — 
no  Yankee  disimtch  bearer,  no  recruits  and  no 
money.  The  exjiedition  hasn't  amounted  to  as  much 
as  I  thought  it  would,  and  I  am  sorry  I  was  ordered 
out  on  it." 

"You  haven't  anything  to  regret  compared  to 
what  I  have,"  was  the  colonel's  answer.  "  If  Liike 
Bennett  finds  out  that  I  was  with  this  party,  I  shall 
see  trouble.     I  am  afraid  of  him." 

There  was  more  conversation  carried  on  by  the 
parties  outside,  but  as  they  were  moving  away  from 
the  cane  the  boys  could  not  hear  what  they  said. 
When  the  murmur  of  their  voices  had  died  away  in 
the  distance,  the  fugitives  moved  cautiously  from 
their  place  of  concealment  and  stopped  to  recon- 
noiter. 


HIDING  IN  THE  CANE.  181 

By  the  light  of  the  moon,  which  was  now  rising 

above  the  hill  tops,  they  were  enabled  to  see  that 
their  late  pursuers  had  joined  their  comjoanions  in 
the  road,  and  that  the  entire  body  was  moving  tow- 
ard the  swamp. 

Having  made  sure  that  the  coast  was  clear,  Luke 
led  the  way  along  the  edge  of  the  canebrake,  grad- 
ually "  circling  around "  toward  the  i^lace  where 
they  had  left  their  canoe.  They  passed  within  less 
than  a  hundred  yards  of  Colonel  St.  Clair's  house, 
and  Luke  once  more  declared  that  the  only  thing 
that  kept  him  from  setting  fire  to  it  was  the  look 
that  his  mother  would  give  him  when  she  found  it 
out.     And  then  he  added  : 

"  Just  as  likely  as  not  she  would  take  the  colonel's 
wife  and  daughters  in  and  care  for  them.  That's  al- 
ways the  w^ay  with  mother.  No  matter  how  badly 
the  rebels  and  their  women  treat  her,  she  has  noth- 
ing but  kind  words  and  sympathy  for  them.  She  is 
too  tender  hearted  to  live  in  war  times.  I  tell  you, 
Duckfoot,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  our  mothers,  we  fel- 
lows would  have  bushwhacked  those  guerrillas  be- 
fore this  time," 

Ned  did  not  doubt  it,  and  he  would  not  have 
blamed  them  for  it,  either. 

The  boys  found  their  canoe  after  two  hours'  rapid 
walking,  during  which  they  neither  saw  nor  heard 
anything  of  the  men  whom  Colonel  St.  Clair  had 
brought  over  from  Vicksburg  on  i)uri)ose  to  capture 
them  and  their  treasure.  Shortly  after  sunrise  they 
were  vociferously^  greeted  by  the  comrades  whom 
they  had  left  in  camp  at  the  old  bee  tree. 

*'  Joe  has  been  awfully  w^orried  about  you  two," 
said  Tom  Pike,  as  he  drew  the  bow  of  their  canoe 
upon  the  bank.  "  He  declares  that  he  heard  firing 
in  the  direction  of  the  settlement.  Did  he  ?  Or  did 
he  dream  it  ?" 


182  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"  I  think  ho  must  have  heard  it,"  replied  Luko. 
"  At  any  rate,  we  have  been  shot  at  hy  ten  or  a 
dozen  fellows  since  wo  left  here  last  night." 

"  There,  now  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  while  the  others 
could  only  look  their  surprise. 

"  It  was  Colonel  St.  Clair  and  his  men,"  continued 
Luke,  without  waitin^^  to  be  questioned.  "Having 
failed  to  capture  us  in  our  hide  out,  they  thought 
they  would  slip  up  to  the  settlement  and  gobble 
any  of  us  who  might  ha2)pen  to  be  home  on  a  visit. 
They  came  pretty  near  taking  us  in.  And  who  do 
you  sujipose  warned  us  of  our  danger  ?  Our  old 
enemy  Captain  llyder;  and  ho  couldn't  have  been 
more  frightened  if  he  had  stood  in  our  shoes." 

The  boys  were  really  amazed  now,  and  Frank 
BarroJi  declared  that  he  began  to  believe  that  the 
guerrilla  was  in  earnest  wljen  he  promised  to  be- 
friend Luke  at  every  o})i)ortunity. 

"Perhaps  he  was  ;  but  he  didn't  make  that 
promise  out  of  any  liking  for  me,"  said  the  latter. 
"He  wants  revenge  upon  the  men  he  once  com- 
manded, and  this  is  the  way  he  takes  to  get  it." 

"But  I  don't  see  how  he  is  going  to  carry  water 
on  both  shoulders,"  observed  Tom  Pike.  "  He  will 
spill  some  sure.  If  Bowles  and  his  men  find  out 
that  he  is  playing  them  false,  his  life  will  not  be 
worth  a  moment's  purchase." 

"  That's  his  look(;ut,"  said  Joe  savagely. 

Luke  and  his  coni])ani()n  reached  ca:np  just  in 
time  for  breakfast,  and  while  they  were  disposing  of 
their  corn  bread  and  bacon,  the}^  entertained  their 
friends  with  a  thrilling  account  of  their   adventure. 

*'  The  conver=^ation  we  overheard  wliile  we  were 
hiding  in  the  cane  leads  me  to  believe  tliat  the  rebels 
have  gone  back  to  Vicksburg,"  said  Luke,  at  length. 
"  If  they  have,  we  can  return  to  our  hide  out  to- 
morrow." 


HIDING  IN  THE  CANE,  183 

"  Of  course  we  shall  find  a  pile  of  ashes,  and  of 
course,  too,  those  signal  bells  of  mine  will  never  do 
duty  for  us  again,"  Sidney  Jones  remarked. 

"  What  better  camp  do  you  want  than  this  ?  "  said 
Ned,  looking  around.  "It  is  well  supplied  with 
wood  and  good  water,  and  it  is  higher  and  drier 
than  the  hide  out.     Why  don't  you  stay  here  ?  " 

"  There  is  one  very  good  reason  for  it,"  replied 
Joe.  "Our  friends  in  Vicksburg  know  where  our 
hide  out  is,  but  they  don't  know  where  this  camp  is. 
If  by  any  hocus  jjocus  one  of  them  should  succeed 
in  making  his  esca^^e  from  the  city  and  reaching  the 
swamp,  we  want  to  be  on  hand  to  help  him ;  don't 
you  see  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that.  You  may  think  it  strange 
that  I  should  say  so,  but  I  was  glad  to  learn  that  so 
large  a  body  of  men  could  come  over  from  Vicks- 
burg during  the  day  time,  for  it  proves  to  my  satis- 
faction that  our  gunboats  have  left  the  river,"  said 
Ned.  "  A  small  body  might  have  slipped  over  un- 
observed, but  a  whole  company  could  hardly  have 
done  it.  The  safe  retreat  of  our  boats  is  going  to 
make  it  all  the  harder  for  me  to  deliver  this,"  he 
continued,  exhibiting  the  weighted  envelope,  which 
he  could  not  have  guarded  more  carefully  if  it  had 
been  filled  with  thousand  dollar  greenbacks. 

"  Why,  if  your  boats  are  safe,  that  dispatch  can't 
be  of  any  value  to  General  Sherman,"  said  Luke. 

"I  don't  know  whether  it  is  or  not,"  answered  the 
young  officer.     "  My  orders  are  to  deliver  it." 


184  LUKE  BENNETT'S  111I>E  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

DULL    TIMES    IN    CAMP. 

On  the  day  following  the  occurrence  of  the  excit- 
ing events  ■which  I  have  attempted  to  describe  in  the 
previous  chapter,  Luke  Bennett  and  his  little  band 
took  possession  of  their  island;  and  a  most  desolate 
looking  place  they  found  it  to  be.  Their  cozy  little 
cabin  wasn't  there,  and  the  flames  which  had 
destroyed  it  had  scorched  and  blackened  the  trees 
and  bushes  on  every  side. 

More  than  that,  the  surface  of  the  island  had  been 
dug  full  of  holes,  and  a  large  hollow  poplar,  which 
had  been  thrown  down  by  the  wind,  and  whose 
branches  had  furnished  the  young  refugees  with 
fuel  for  their  camj)  fire,  had  been  split  open  along 
its  entire  length.  The  boys  gazed  ruefully  at  the 
charred  remains  of  their  house,  and  laughed  when 
they  thought  how  disappointed  and  angry  Colonel 
St.  Clair  must  have  been  over  his  failure  to  find  their 
hidden  treasure. 

"  If  our  money  had  been  concealed  on  the  island 
they  would  have  unearthed  it  as  sure  as  the  world," 
observed  Sidney  Jones.  "  For  they  have  dug  a  hole 
in  every  spot  where  the  bushes  were  wide  enough 
aj^art  to  permit  them  to  use  a  spade.  I  hope  the 
colonel  is  satisfied  that  he  will  have  to  give  it  up  as 
a  hard  job." 

"Without  wasting  a  moment  in  vain  regrets,  the 
boys  pulled  off  their  coats  and  went  to  work  to  clear 


DULL  TIMES  IN  CAMP.  185 

away  the  ruins  of  the  cabin,  and  erect  another 
shelter;  but  when  it  was  comj)leted  it  did  not  look 
much  like  the  neat  hide  out  that  had  been  burned 
by  Colonel  St.  Clair's  orders. 

The  events  of  the  last  few  days  had  showed  them 
that  the  island  was  no  longer  a  safe  hiding  place 
for  them.  A  good  many  of  their  enemies  knew  ex- 
actly where  to  find  it,  and  there  was  no  telling  w^hen 
they  might  be  forced  to  abandon  it  and  flee  for  their 
lives.  They  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  put  up 
a  nice  little  house  for  the  rebels  to  destroy,  so  they 
built  a  commodious  lean  to,  with  a  tight  roof  to 
shelter  them  in  stormy  weather,  the  wide  front  be- 
ing left  open  to.  the  fire.  Of  course  their  signal 
bells  had  disappeared,  and  now  they  had  nothing 
to  warn  them  of  the  approach  of  an  enemy. 

"  That's  going  to  make  it  hard  on  us,"  said  Frank 
Barron,  who  was  sitting  in  front  of  the  lean  to,  pick- 
ing browse  for  his  bed.  "  I  suppose  we  shall  have 
to  stand  guard  now,  day  and  night." 

"I  don't  see  how  we  are  going  to  get  around  it," 
answered  Luke.  "Those  fellows  from  Vicksburg 
are  liable  to  come  back  at  any  minute,  and  as  soon 
as  those  boats  are  done,  we  may  expect  a  visit  from 
our  old  friend,  Ike  Bishop.  Wasn't  that  Tram^)  ?  " 
he  added,  raising  his  finger,  warningl3%  "  Yes,  sir, 
it  was.  Go  out  there,  Sam.  Mother  has  got  news 
for  us.' 

The  old  negro  at  once  shoved  off  in  his  canoe  to 
bring  the  messenger  to  the  island,  and  Luke  and 
his  friends  lounged  around,  awaiting  his  return  wath 
no  little  impatience.  Was  the  news  good  or  bad  ? 
That  was  the  question  Ihey  always  asked  themselves 
when  Tramp  gave  tbem  notice  of  his  coming,  and 
their  suspense  was  so  great  that  they  seldom  si:)oke 
to  one  another  while  they  were  waiting  for  him. 

Old  Sam  came  back  at  the  end  of  twenty  minutes, 


186  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

and  Luke  made  all  hasto  to  undo  the  letter  that  was 
tied  around  the  dog's  neck.  His  companions 
watched  him  furtively  as  he  ran  his  eyes  over  the 
closely  written  linos,  and  they  were  greatly  relieved 
when  they  saw  him  thj-ow  back  his  head  and  in- 
dulge in  a  silent  but  hearty  laugh. 

This  was  a  peculiarity  of  the  boys  who  lived  in  the 
hide  out,  and  Ned  Marsh  had  noticed  it  from  the 
first.  They  Avere  seldom  boisterous.  They  never 
laughed  aloud,  aud  their  conversations,  especially 
at  night,  were  carried  on  in  a  subdued  tone  of  voice. 
The  atmosphere  of  danger  in  which  they  lived  had 
taught  them  caution. 

"It's  all  right,  boys,"  said  Luke.  "There's  noth- 
ing but  good  news  in  it.  Those  villains  up  there  in 
the  settlement  are  afraid  of  us,  as  they  have  reason 
to  be.     Listen  to  this." 

So  saying,  Luke  seated  himself  upon  a  convenient 
log  and  read  as  follows : 

Words  would  fail  ino,  my  dear  boy,  if  I  should  attempt  to  toll 
you  bow  terribly  fri^htcLi<'d  I  was,  as  I  sat  hero  iu  my  desola- 
tion and  loncliuess,  and  Jistrnodto  the  horrid  din  thatwa.s/'oiug 
on  outside.  I  knew  that  they  \v<u-e  shooting  at  you  au(l  Mr. 
Marsh,  and  sometimes  their  yells  had  st)  (.'xultaut  a  liu^iu 
them,  that  I  was  sure  th(?y  had  succeeded  iu  killing  or  eaptur- 
in;i:  you  ;  and  whcsu  the  rebels  went  away,  and  our  peopl)'  came 
up  from  the  quart(3r  aud  told  me  that  you  had  made  ^(xxl  your 
(wcapo,  the  revulsion  of  feeling  was  so  ^reat  thati  could  hardly 
b(;ar  up  under  it.  W<3re  either  of  you  wounded  V  Send  Tramp 
back  at  onc(;  with  an  answer. 

I  wondered  why  th(^  fjuorrillas  did  not  sally  out  to  assist 
Colonel  St.  Clair,  aud  this  morning  I  found  out.  When  they 
heard  the  yells  and  the  shooting,  thoy  strai^^htway  jumi)od  to 
the  eonclusion  that  you  and  your  friends  had  come  out  of  the 
swamp  to  take  rev(nif?e  upon  them  tor  wrecking  our  houses, 
and  they  were  terribly  alarmed.  They  were  afraid  to  open 
their  doors  the  next  morning. 

They  were  surprised  and  enrapred  when  they  learned  from 
the  negroes  that  Colonel  St.  Clair  had  brought  a  partv  of  sol- 
diers over  from  Vicksburg  on  purpose  to  capture  and  find  the 
money  which  they  (the  guerrilhis)  none  to  handle  tliemselves, 
and  their  rage  was  inenjased  when  ike  Bishop  received  a  per- 
emptory ordtn*  from  tii«^  colonel  to  start  for  T<Mmessee!  without 
an  hour's  delay.    Ike  protested  that  his  leave  had  not  yet  ex- 


DULL  TIMES  IN  CAMP.  187 

Eired,  but  tho  colonel  threatoned  to  report  him  as  a  deserter  If 
o  didn't  start  at  ouce,  and  so  he  had  to  go.  You  see,  the 
colonel  didn't  want  him  to  guide  tho  guerrillas  to  your  hide 
out,  for  fear  that  they  might  stumble  upon  the  money,  and  that 
would  make  you  so  angry  tliat  you  would  burn  his  house.  After 
his  failure  to  capture  you.  Colonel  St.  Clair  went  home,  and 
made  hurried  preparations  to  return  to  the  army.  1  think  ho 
uuist  have  left  before  daylight,  for  no  one  saw  him  go,  and  he 
certainly  is  not  here. 

I  learned  all  this  through  Mrs.  Ryder,  who  of  course  got  her 
information  from  her  husband ;  and  she  told  me  to  warn  you 
not  to  relax  your  vigilance.  Before  Ike  Bisbop  left,  he  gave 
Captain  Bowles  some  very  explicit  directions,  and  the  fact  that 
work  still  progresses  on  the  boats,  leads  mo  to  believe  that 
Bowles  thinlts  himself  capable  of  acting  as  his  own  guide.  So 
you  must  not  neglect  to  guard  against  surprise. 

The  blockade  of  tho  Rolling  Fork  is  still  kept  up,  and  Mr. 
Marsh  will  have  to  remain  your  unwilling  guesL  until  it  is 
raised.  Tell  him  that  it  would  be  dangerous  for  him  to  try  to 
reach  the  Mississippi,  because  there  is  a  large  body  of  rebel 
cavalry  in  there,  watching  for  a  chance  to  annoy  Grant's 
troops  on  the  other  side  of  the  river. 

When  Luke  finished  reading  this  letter,  he  and 
his  friends  looked  toward  Ned  Marsh,  to  see  what  he 
thought  of  the  situation.  The  expression  on  his 
face  told  them  that  he  was  not  at  all  pleased  with  it. 

"  I  don't  see  how  it  can  be  helped,"  said  Tom, 
soothingly.  "  You  are  in  no  way  to  blame  for  it,  and 
what's  the  odds  so  long  as  you're  happy?" 

"  But  I  am  not  happy,"  retorted  Ned.  "  How  do 
I  know  but  that  my  vessel  has  been  called  upon  for 
some  sort  of  service  before  this  time  ?  And  here  I 
am,  shut  up  like  a  rat  in  a  trap." 

"  Are  you  spoiling  for  a  fight  ?  "  asked  Sidney. 

"  By  no  means;  but  if  3^ou  were  in  the  service  you 
would  understand  my  feelings.  You  can't  imagine 
how  it  makes  a  soldier  fret  and  fume  to  know  that 
his  regiment  has  been  under  fire  while  he  Avasn't 
there  to  help.  A  gunboatman  feels  the  same  way. 
I  don't  like  to  think  that  some  other  ofiicer  has 
commanded  my  division  in  action,  while  I  have  been 
fooling  around  here  doing  nothing.  Great  Scott !  " 
exclaimed  Ned,  throwing  off  his  cap  and  pulling  his 


188  LUKE  BENNETTS  HIDE  OUT. 

hair  with  both  hands.  "  I  shall  ^o  crazy  if  I  don't 
get  out  of  this  pretty  soon.  What  will  my  cai)tain 
think  of  me — what  can  he  think,  but  that  T  was  a 
blockhead  to  go  and  lose  myself  in  this  way?" 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  take  on  like  that,"  said  Tom, 
calmly.  "  The  admiral  knew  that  there  was  a  chance 
for  the  dispatch  to  get  lost,  and  that's  the  reason  he 
sent  it  in  duiDlicate.  Why  don't  you  let  that  reflec- 
tion console  you  ?  " 

"  I  can't,"  replied  Ned.  "I  shall  never  feel  like  myself 
again  until  I  give  these  paj^ers  into  General  Sher- 
man's hand,  and  rej^ort  myself  to  the  Decatur's 
officer  of  the  deck." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  Luke  Ben- 
nett brought  out  his  writing  materials,  and  sat 
down  to  tell  his  mother  that  he  and  Ned  Marsh  had 
escaped  unscathed  from  the  shower  of  bullets  that 
Colonel  St.  Clair's  party  had  sent  about  their  ears. 
When  the  letter  was  finished,  old  Sam  and  Tramp 
were  started  off  with  it,  and  then  the  boys  settled 
down  to  five  weeks  of  the  dreariest  and  most  mo- 
notonous existence  that  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  a 
party  of  unfortunate  refugees.  Luke  and  his 
friends  did  not  mind  it  so  much,  because  they  were 
used  to  it;  but  the  restless  and  impatient  young 
gunboat  officer  often  told  himself  that  he  never 
could  have  endured  it  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
letters  that  Luke  received  from  his  mother  at  reg- 
ular intervals.  Mrs.  Bennett  always  had  something 
to  say  about  the  boats,  and  the  blockade  which  was 
still  kept  up  along  Rolling  Fork. 

At  last  there  came  a  most  welcome  piece  of  news 
from  the  settlement.  Two  scows,  large  enough  to 
hold  twenty  five  men  each,  had  been  completed,  and 
now  lay  upon  tlie  bank  of  Barlow's  bayou,  in  the 
rear  of  the  old  gin  house;  but  Captain  I3owles  was 
not  ^uite   ready   to   advance   upon   the   hide   out. 


DULL  TIMES  IN  CAMi'.  1^0 

When  ho  made  a  start,  he  intended  to  stay  in  the 
swamp  until  he  accomplished  the  object  for  Avhich 
the  boats  had  been  built ;  and  in  order  that  there 
might  be  nothing  to  hasten  his  return,  he  had  gone 
off  after  more  bacon  and  meal.  Some  of  it  was  to  be 
left  in  the  settlement,  and  the  rest  would  be  used  to 
provision  his  expedition.  Mrs.  Bennett  didn't  think 
that  the  boats  were  guarded,  but  still  it  might  be 
well  for  the  boys  to  mind  what  they  were  about. 

"  These  women  are  sharp,  and  it  is  next  to  an  im- 
possibility to  keep  anything  from  them,"  said  Luke, 
as  he  folded  up  the  letter.  "I  never  so  much  as 
hinted  that  we  had  made  up  our  minds  to  cajDture 
those  boats,  and  yet  mother  seems  to  know  about  it. 
Well,  Duckfoot,  now  is  our  time.  Shall  we  try  it  to- 
night?" 

"By  all  means,"  answered  Ned,  quickly.  "I'd 
rather  fight  than  live  in  this  way  any  longer." 

The  boys  did  not  know  it,  but  there  were  "better 
times  close  at  hand  for  all  of  them.  Already  a  series 
of  events  were  in  progress  wdiich  were  destined  to 
bring  about  the  most  astonishing  as  well  as  gratify^ 
ing  results 


100  LUKE  UKNNETT'S  niDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

GLORIOUS    NEWS. 

The  boys  ate  an  early  supper,  and  as  soon  as  dark- 
ness came  to  conceal  their  movements,  they  began 
to  preimre  for  action.  As  they  were  about  to  shove 
off  their  canoes,  Ned  Marsh  said: 

"There's  one  point  we  ought  to  settle  before  we 
start:  What  are  we  going  to  do  with  those  flatboats 
after  we  get  them  ?" 

"  AVh}^  we  intend  to  bore  them  full  of  holes  with 
these  augers,  and  sink  them  in  the  deepest  part  of 
the  swamp,"  replied  Tom,  who  seemed  somewhat  sur- 
prised at  the  question. 

"  But  don't  you  know  that  they  won't  sink  unless 
they  have  some  heavy  ballast  aboard  to  take  them 
down?"  demanded  Ned.  "They  will  float  full  of 
water,  unless  they  are  built  of  oak  planks;  and  I 
don't  believe  they  are." 

"  I  declare,  I  never  thought  of  that !"  exclaimed 
Luke.  "  What  f<hall  we  do  with  them  ?  We  want  to 
destroy  them  effectuall}',  and  it  wouldn't  be  safe  to 
break  them  up  with  axes  where  tliey  lie.  We'll 
have  to  tow  them  to  the  hide  out  and  use  them  for 
firewood." 

The  boys,  one  and  all,  declared  that  it  would  be  a 
"  fearful  job  "  to  bring  those  heavy  boats  so  far, 
even  in  the  daytime,  and  an  almost  impossible  task 
to  accomplish  in  the  dark,  because  the  trees  in  the 
swamp  grow  so  close  together;  but  now  that  they 


OLORIOtS  NEWS.  m 

came  to  think  of  it,  tliey  did  not  see  what  else  they 
could  do,  unless  they  hid  the  boats  somewhere  after 
boring  the  holes  in  them. 

"  Well,  shove  off,"  said  Ned,  who  had  long  before 
been  selected  to  command  the  expedition.  "  Let's 
get  the  boats  first,  and  decide  what  we  will  do  with 
them  afterward.  Now,  in  order  to  avoid  all  danger 
of  separation  in  the  darkness,  let's  make  the  canoes 
fast,  one  behind  the  other,  Sam  taking  the  lead. 
When  we  reach  the  old  gin  house,  Frank,  Tom  and 
I  will  cut  loose  from  the  line  and  take  care  of  one  of 
the  boats,  while  the  rest  of  you  look  out  for  the 
other.  Is  there  anything  that  we  have  neglected? 
Then  keep  silence  fore  and  aft.  We  don't  know 
whether  those  boats  are  guarded  or  not.  Go  ahead, 
Sam." 

The  long  line  of  canoes  moved  away  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  for  an  hour  or  more  the  only  sound  that 
broke  the  stillness  was  the  very  slight  sjilasliing 
made  by  the  paddles  as  they  rose  and  fell  in  the 
water. 

All  on  a  sudden,  Ned  became  aware  that  they 
were  gradually  drawing  out  of  the  swamj),  for  he 
could  see  the  sky  on  his  left  hand.  A  few  minutes 
later  the  first  outlines  of  a  building  loomed  up 
through  the  darkness,  the  canoes  in  front  of  him 
were  brought  to  a  standstill,  and  Ned  became  aware 
that  Sidney  Jones  was  fumbling  with  his  painter. 
As  soon  as  it  had  been  cast  off,  Ned  dij^x^ed  his 
paddle  into  the  water  again,  and,  towing  Tom  and 
Frank  after  him,  moved  up  alongside  Luke  Bennett 
to  hold  a  consultation. 

"There  they  are,"  said  the  latter,  pointing  with 
his  paddle.  "  I  can  see  them  very  distinctly.  Now, 
as  I  am  nearer  to  the  bank  than  3^ou  are,  I  will  take 
the  first  one  in  tow,  and  you  go  on  and  make  fast  to 
the  other.     I  can't  see  any  signs  of  a  camp  fire,  and 


192  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

that  makes  me  tliiiik  the  boats  are  not  guarded.  A 
sentry  wouldn't  be  very  likely  to  stay  here  in  the 
dark,\vould  he  ?  But  still  we  don't  want  to  make 
any  noise." 

Again  the  canoes  were  put  in  motion,  and  in  less 
than  five  minutes  the  boats,  with  which  Captain 
Bowles  expected  to  do  such  great  things,  were  in 
possession  of  Luke  Bennett  and  his  friends.  Once 
more  the  question  arose:  AYhat  should  they  do  with 
them  ?  The  boats  had  so  much  breadth  of  beam 
that  it  was  useless  to  think  of  towing  them  through 
the  swamp  in  the  dark,  and  if  they  left  them  water- 
logged, it  would  be  an  easy  matter  for  the  guer- 
rillas to  haul  them   out  and   repair  them. 

WTiile  they  were  talking  about  it,  they  became 
aware  that  there  was  something  going  on  in  the  set- 
tlement. First  they  heard  an  indistinct  murmur  of 
voices,  which,  a  moment  later,  was  followed  by  the 
clatter  of  many  hoofs  and  the  rapid  discharge  of 
firearms.  When  these  sounds  died  away  for  an  in- 
stant, the  shrieks  of  frightened  negroes,  mingled 
with  "  rebel  yells,"  rang  in  their  ears. 

"What  is  it?"  Luke  13ennett  almost  gasped;  and 
the  words  were  repeated  by  all  his  comj^'anions.  "  Is 
it  a  battle,  Duckfoot  ?  It  is,  as  sure  as  the  world," 
he  added,  as  a  second  volley  awoke  the  echoes  of 
the  swamp.  "  Cut  loose  from  that  scow,  Sid.  We 
must  not  stay  here  when  our  mothers  are  in  dan- 
ger!" 

"Don't  do  anything  foolish,"  Ned  Marsh  inter- 
posed.    "You'd  better  stay  where  you  are." 

"Do  you  take  us  for  cowards  because  we  have 
never  smelled  powder?"  demanded  Joe,  almost 
fiercely. 

"  By  no  means.  But  there's  a  fight  going  on  out 
there,  and  your  presence  would  cause  your  mothers 
the  greatest  anxiety." 


GLORIOUS  NEWS.  193 

"Who's  fighting?" 

"Of  course  I  don't  know  for  certain;  but  it  is  my 
opinion  that  the  Home  Guards  are  getting  a  beauti- 
ful whipjDing." 

"I  hope  so,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  ex- 
claimed Sidney.     "  But  who's  giving  it  to  them  ?" 

"It  maybe  a  company  of  rebel  cavalry;  or  per- 
haps the  planters  who  live  up  the  country  are  get- 
ting tired  of  being  robbed,  and  have  determined  to 
put  a  stop  to  it.  In  either  case  jou  couldn't  do  any 
good  out  there,  and  you  would  stand  a  chance  of  be- 
ing popped  over  by  one  side  or  the  other.  Better 
go  back  to  the  hide  out  and  wait  for  Tramp.  Your 
mother  will  send  you  a  fulhaccount  of  the  affair  as 
soon  as  it  is  safe  for  her  to  do  so." 

The  boys  saw  the  force  of  Ned's  reasoning,  and  de- 
cided to  follow  his  advice;  but  it  was  hard  for  them 
to  sit  there  in  safety  and  listen  to  the  sounds  of  the 
conflict  that  was  raging  so  close  about  their 
homes. 

The  battle,  if  such  it  was,  did  not  last  more  than 
five  or  ten  minutes.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the  re- 
ports of  firearms  ceased,  the  yells  of  the  contestants 
and  the  screams  of  the  terrified  darkies  gradually 
died  away,  and  then  all  was  still.'  The  silence 
aroused  Luke,  who  said,  hurriedly: 

"  Sam,  the  swamp  is  more  open  right  here  than  it 
is  farther  down  the  bayou,  isn't  it?  Well,  then, 
turn  into  it,  and  stay  behind  the  first  clump  of 
bushee  you  can  find.  If  we  can't  stop  to  destroy 
these  boats,  we  will  put  the  guerrillas  to  some 
trouble  to  hunt  them  up ." 

The  old  negro  was  so  badly  frightened  that  he 
hardly  knew  whether  he  stood  on  his  head  or  his 
feet;  but  after  a  few  attempts  he  managed  to  get  his 
paddle  in  motion,  and  after  going  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  or  so  into  the  swamp,  he  found  a  small  patch  of 


194  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HmE  OUT. 

cane.  It  was  not  a  very  good  hiding  place,  but  they 
were  so  anxious  to  reach  the  hide  out  in  time  to 
meet  Tramp,  when  he  brought  Mrs.  Bennett's  ac- 
count of  the  fight,  that  they  could  not  stop  to  look 
for  a  better. 

While  two  of  the  boys  busied  themselves  in  mak- 
ing the  boats  fast  to  the  cane,  so  that  they  would 
not  float  out  of  their  place  of  concealment,  two 
others  set  to  work  with  the  augers,  and  in  ten 
minutes  from  the  time  they  halted  there,  the  boats 
were  filled  with  water  to  the  toj)  of  their  gunwales. 
After  that,  the  canoes  were  tied  together  again,  and 
old  Sam  led  the  way    toward  the  hide  out. 

"  This  expedition  hasn't  accomj^lished  as  much 
as  I  thought  it  would,  for  those  boats  may  yet  be 
re]3aired  and  used  against  us,"  said  Luke.  "But  if 
those  guerrillas  have  been  thrashed  without  bring- 
ing harm  to  our  women  folks,  I  think  we  ought  to 
be  satisfied  with  the  events  of  the  night.  It  is  my 
turn  to  go  on  guard.  Are  you  going  to  stay  with 
me,  Duckf oot  ?  " 

Ned  replied   that  he  was,  and  Luke  continued  : 

"  I  wish  one  of  you  fellows  would  see  that  Sam 
keeps  his  ears  open  for  Tramp's  signal.  If  he  brings 
a  letter  from  mother,  read  it  at  once,  and  then  come 
out  to  the  guard  tree  and  tell  us  what  it  says. 
Don't  waste  any  time  about  it,  either,  for  I  am  very 
anxious  to  know  what's  been  going  on  in  the  settle- 
ment. 

After  half  an  hour's  steady  paddling  they  reached 
the  "  guard  tree."  Their  signal  bells  having  been 
taken  away  from  them,  the  boys  were  obliged  to 
guard  their  hide  out  themselves,  and  some  of  their 
number  were  always  found  at  this  particular  tree. 
The  swamp  on  one  side  of  it  was  comparatively 
clear  of  bushes  and  cane,  and  it  would  have  been 
almost  impossible  for  a  canoe  to  approach  the  sentry 


GLORIOUS  NEWS.  195 

from  the  direction  of  Vicksburg  without  being  dis- 
covered. Luke  and  Ned  cast  off  their  painters  and 
fell  out  of  the  line,  and  their  companions  bade  them 
good  night  and  kept  on  toward  the  camp. 

The  two  sentries  had  been  left  alone  scarcely 
more  than  an  hour,  when  Tramp's  impatient  signal 
set  their  hearts  to  beating  like  trip  hammers.  They 
knew  when  old  Sam  put  off  to  bring  him  to  the  hide 
out,  and  they  knew  when  he  came  back.  Fifteen 
minutes  later  they  saw  the  dim  outlines  of  Tom 
Pike's  figure,  as  he  came  out  of  the  cane  and  sent 
his  canoe  toward  them  with  long,  impatient  strokes. 

"  O  hojs  !  '  he  j^anted,  as  soon  as  he  came  within 
speaking  distance.  "  It's  just  as  Duckfoot  tnought. 
The  guerrillas  have  been  cut  all  to  i:»ieces." 

"  By  whom  ?  "  asked  Ned  and  Luke  in  concert. 

"  By  some  rebel  cavalry  ;  I  don't  know  to  whose 
command  they  belong.  You  see,  the  guerrillas  have 
been  reported  time  and  again  by  the  planters,  both 
rebel  and  Union,  to  some  officer  up  that  way''  (here 
Tom  jerked  his  thumb  in  one  direction  and  nodded 
his  head  in  another),  "  and  when  the  officer  got  tired 
of  listening  to  so  many  complaints,  he  sent  out  a 
company  with  orders  to  wipe  them  off  the  face  of 
the  earth.  They  ran  the  guerrillas  fourteen  miles, 
and  came  near  obeying  their  instructions  to  the 
very  letter.  Ryder  told  his  wife  all  about  it,  and 
she  came  to  your  mother's  house  with  the  news." 

"  Did  the  guerrillas  make  any  kind  of  a  fight  ?  " 
asked  Luke. 

"I'll  bet  they  didn't,"  exclaimed  Ned,  in  a  tone 
which  seemed  to  say  that  he  was  surprised  at  Luke 
for  asking  such  a  question.  "  Those  who  make  war 
upon  defenseless  women  haven't  the  '  sand  '  to  stand 
up  before  men.  I  say,  '  Bully  for  that  officer,  who- 
ever he  is.'  " 

"So   do    I,"    said    Luke.      "I  have   heard   that 


196  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

Bowles  was  the  chief  mischief  maker,  and  that  he 
was  the  one  who  planned  that  raid  upon  our  houses. 
If  tliat  is  the  case,  I  hope  he  met  his  just  deserts." 

"  Well,  I  «-uess  he  did,"  replied  Tom.  "E3'der  saw 
him  fall  off  his  horse,  but  he  didn't  see  him  afterward; 
so  he  must  have  lain  where  he  fell.  The  guerrillas 
made  a  sort  of  running  fight  of  it,  but  if  they  hurt 
any  of  the  cavalrymen,  Ryder  does  not  know  it." 

"That's  the  l)est  news  I  ever  lieard,"  said  Luke, 
after  Tom  had  left  them  and  gone  back  to  the  hide 
out.  "I  don't  tliink  that  Bowles's  guerrillas  will 
ever  be  of  any  more  use  as  an  organization.  I  only 
wish  they  had  got  this  drubbing  before  they 
smashed  my  mother's  piano." 

Of  course  the  tAvo  sentries  had  plenty  to  talk 
about  after  this.  One  thing  was  i:)lain  to  both  of 
them,  and  that  was  :  There  would  be  no  organized 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  guerrillas  to  assault  the 
hide  out  and  capture  the  money  that  was  suj^posed 
to  be  concealed  there.  All  Luke  and  his  comjDanions 
had  to  fear  was  perhaps  an  occasional  shot  from 
some  roving  member  of  the  compan^^  who  might 
chance  to  stumble  upon  them  in  the  swamp.  But 
Luke  didn't  think  they  would  resort  to  buslnvhack- 
ing,  for  that  was  a  game  at  which  two  could'  play; 
and,  besides,  tlie  terrible  thrashing  they  had  just 
received  must  have  taken  a  good  deal  of  the  courage 
out  of  them — if,  indeed,  they  had  ever  had  any. 

In  discussing  such  points  as  these  the  time  passed 
rai)idly  away,  and  at  last  Luke  thought  it  was  about 
time  he  was  calling  his  relief.  He  was  al)out  to 
strike  a  match  to  consult  his  watch,  when  Ned  laid 
his  hand  upon  his  arm  and  pointed  silently  before 
him.  His  companion  looked,  and  then  stretched 
himself  Hat  uj^on  the  bottom  of  his  canoe,  and 
shoved  his  heavy  doul)le  barrel  over  the  bow. 

"It's  a  canoe,  as  sure   as   I'm   a  foot  high,"  ho 


GLOKIOUS  NEWS.  19/ 

wliisi:)ered.  "Now  cover  liim,  and  look  sharp.  If 
lie  gives  the  signal,  it  means  more  treachery,  and 
he's  got  friends  not  far  off." 

The  canoeist  was  by  this  time  so  close  to  them 
that  Ned  dared  not  move  for  fear  of  attracting  his 
attention  ;  so  he  kept  his  seat  and  covered  the  man 
with  his  revolver,  resting  his  elbow  on  his  knee  to 
make  sure  of  a  good  shot.  He  held  this  position 
scarcely  a  minute  when  he  was  electrified  to  hear 
Luke  say,  in  a  husky  whisper: 

"Be  careful,  Duckfoot !  For  Heaven's  sake,  be 
careful !     That  is  my  brother,  if  I  ever  saw  him." 


198  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 

THE    li  E  T  U  K  N  E  D    C  (J  N  S  G  R  I  P  T. 

Ned  Maiisii  raised  the  muzzle  of  Lis  revolver  and 
let  down  the  hammer. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  continued  Luke,  in  trembling  tones, 
"  that's  my  brother.  I  am  sure  of  it,  for  no  one  ever 
handled  a  paddle  with  quite  as  much  ease  and 
grace  as  Gus  Bennett."  Then  raising  his  voice  he 
called  out,  sharply:  "Stop  where  you  are.  You 
have  come  close  enough." 

The  answer  that  came  back  Avas: 

*'  O  Luke,  is  that  you  ?" 

The  latter  did  not  stop  to  respond.  With  frantic 
haste  he  cast  off  his  painter,  which  he  had  made  fast 
to  the  guard  tree  to  hold  his  canoe  stationary,  and 
caught  up  his  paddle.  A  few  seconds  later  the  two 
canoes  dashed  alongside  each  other,  and  Ned  Marsh, 
who  had  considerately  remained  in  the  background, 
saw  the  young  men  locked  in  a  close  embrace. 

"  O  Luke,"  repeated  the  conscrii:)t,  in  a  husky 
voice,  "  you  don't  know  how  father  and  I  have  wor- 
ried about  you.     Have  you  seen  Cai)tain  Belden  ?" 

Luke,  whose  head  was  resting  on  his  brother's 
shoulder,  murmured  something  in  reply,  but  Ned 
could  not  catch  his  words. 

"  Well,"  continued  the  conscript,  "  ever  since  he 
discovered  our  plot  to  help  Proctor,  we  have  been 
expecting  to  see  you  and  all  your  friends  brought 
into  Vicksburg  as  prisoners.    Bob  Bamsay  made  a 


THE  KETURNED  CONSCRIPT.  199 

daring  attempt  to  escape  on  purpose  to  warn  you, 
but  be  was  captured  and  thrust  into  the  guard 
house.  Who  is  that  fellow  with  the  brass  buttons  ?" 
he  asked,  in  a  lower  tone. 

"  He's  all  right,"  Ned  heard  Luke  say,  in  reply. 
"  He's  a  duckfoot  who  got  lost  in  the  swamp.  That 
was  a  lucky  thing  for  us,  for  he  saved  me  from  cap- 
ture. But  I  will  tell  you  about  it  after  a  while. 
Has  father — has  father  been " 

"  Shot  or  hanged  ?  No;  and  we  can  thank  General 
Grant  for  it.  He  has  kept  Pemberton  so  busy  that 
he  didn't  have  time  to  order  a  court  martial.  I  tell 
you,  boy,  there  have  been  lively  times  about  Vicks- 
burg  since  the  Yanks  crossed  the  river  on  the  31st 
of  ApriL  I  deserted  at  the  battle  of  Champion's  Hill, 
and  here  I  am." 

"Come  here,  Duckfoot,"  said  Luke.  "I  want  to 
make  you  acquainted  with  my  brother  Gus." 

The  introduction  was  gone  through  with  in  due 
form,  and  then  Ned  said  to  the  returned  conscript: 

"I  have  dispatches  for  General  Sherman.  Do 
you  think  it  would  be  safe  to  try  to  deliver  them  ?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Gus,  emphatically.  "Wait  a 
week,  and  then,  if  I  am  any  prophet,  you  can  deliver 
them  at  Haines'  Blnff." 

"  Say,  Duckfoot,"  exclaimed  Luke,  "  would  you 
mind  standing  guard  alone  while  I  go  to  the  hide 
out  and  call  my  relief  ?  I  should  like  to  go  with 
Gus,  because  1  want  to  see  what  the  fellows  will  do 
^lien  they  meet  him." 

Ned  told  him  to  go  ahead,  and  the  brothers  pad- 
dled away  side  by  side.  They  acted  as  if  they  did 
not  want  to  get  out  of  reach  of  each  other. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  Joe  Ramsay  and  Tom 
Pike  made  their  appearance,  and  the  first  thing  they 
did  was  to  apologize  to  Ned  for  keeping  him  waiting 
so  long. 


200  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

"We  were  so  surprised  to  see  Gus, and  so  anxious 
to  hear  all  about  our  friends  in  Vicksburg",  that  we 
talked  lonj^er  than  we  meant  to,"  said  Joe,  wlio,  as 
he  afterward  declared,  was  "  too  hap2)y  to  be  of  any 
further  use." 

"You  were  right,  Duckfoot,  when  you  said  tliat 
Grant  Vould  never  let  up  until  he  had  taken  the 
city.  If  he  can't  whip  the  Johnnies  he  can  starve 
them  out,  for  Gus  says  that  they  are  hard  up  for 
grub  already." 

There  was  a  bright  fire  burning  in  the  hide  out, 
and  by  the  aid  of  the  light  it  threw  out,  Ned  Marsh 
was  able  to  take  a  good  view  of  the  conscript.  He 
was  a  dark,  handsome  young  fellow,  about  twenty 
two  years  of  age,  and  in  everything  except  height 
and  breadth  of  shoulder,  he  looked  as  much  like 
Luke  as  one  brother  could  look  like  another. 

He  had  been  listening  to  a  rapid  but  glowing  ac- 
count of  the  exciting  things  that  had  happened  about 
the  hide  out  and  in  the  settlement  since  Ned  Marsh 
came  among  them,  and  when  the  latter  sat  down  be- 
side him  he  greeted  him  with  great  cordiality.  It 
was  three  o'clock  before  they  knew  it;  and  then  Gus 
jumped  to  his  feet  and  asked  Luke  to  take  him 
ashore,  declaring,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  must  see 
his  mother  without  another  hour's  delay. 

That  week  was  a  long  one  to  Ned  Marsh;  but 
knowmg  that  the  returned  soldier  was  better  acquaint- 
ed with  the  state  of  affairs  about  Vicksburg  than  he 
was,  he  curbed  his  im])atience,  and  did  not  say  a 
word  about  delivering  his  dispatches  until  the  seven 
days  had  expired.  Then  he  broached  the  subject, 
and  was  delighted  to  hear  Gus  say: 

"I  think  you  may  safely  attempt  it  as  soon  as 
you  can  get  ready.  When  I  deserted,  I  escaped 
through  the  Yankee  lines;  and  when  I  told  the  sol- 
cUers  that  I  wajited  to  get  home  with  as  little  delay 


THE  EETUENED  CONSCKIPT.  201 

as  possible,  they  urged  me  to  stay  with  them,  assur- 
ing me  that  if  I  woukl  Avait  a  week,  the  city  woukl 
be  completel}'  invested,  and  then  I  coukl  get  across 
the  Yazoo  without  running  tbe  least  risk  of  being 
captured  by  the  rebels.  I  have  been  home  just  a 
week,  and  it  took  me  live  days  to  get  here;  so  the 
Yanks  have  had  twelve  days  in  which  to  make  good 
their  l)oast.  Yes,  I  think  you  may  try  it  now;  but 
be  careful  when  you  approach  Haines'  Bkiff,  for 
there's  no  telliug  whether  your  people  have  got  it 
yet  or  not." 

"Then  I  shall  start  this  very  night,"  said  Ned, 
gleefully.  "  I  can't  wait  any  lunger.  Where  can  I 
get  a  guide  ?" 

"  Here  are  two  of  them,"  replied  Luke,  pointing  to 
Joe  Ramsay  and  then  to  himself.  "  You  will  prom- 
ise that  your  people  will  let  us  cojue  home  when  we 
want  to,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Oh,  there  will  l^e  no  trouble  about  that,"  Gus 
hastened  to  say.  "  I  deserted  through  their  lines,  and 
they  made  no  effort  to  detain  me.  On  the  contrary. 
General  Logan  gave  me  a  pass,  and  wished  me  God 
speed." 

This  conversation  took  })lace  early  one  morning  in 
Mrs.  Bennett's  parlor,  Avhere  Luke,  Ned  and  Joe  had 
passed  the  night.  In  fact,  they  had  passed  many  a 
night  there  since  the  Home  Guards  received  that 
richly  deserved  thrashing,  and  Bvder  had  never  ap' 
peared  to  warn  them  that  another  attempt  was  to  be 
made  to  capture  them.  As  Gus  ceased  speaking, 
Ned  took  leave  of  him  and  his  mother,  heartily 
wishing  them  a  happy  deliverance  out  of  all  their 
troubles,  and  returned  to  the  hide  out  in  comj^anj; 
with  tlie  boys  who  were  to  act  as  his  guides. 

Til  at  day  was  passed,  as  many  another  day  had 
been,  in  talking  over  their  adventures,  and  at  last, 
to  the  intense  satisfaction  of  one   of  the  boys,  at 


202  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

least,  it  began  to  grow  dark.  A  hasty  supper  was 
eaten,  the  Largest  canoe  was  put  into  the  water,  and 
Ned  secured  possession  of  his  dispatches,  side  arms 
and  boat  cloak. 

"  Good  by,  fellows,"  said  he,  giving  each  of  them 
a  warm  grasp  of  the  hand.  "  I  am  under  obligations 
to  you  which  I  never  can  repay.  I  can  only  thank 
you." 

Ned  and  his  guides  stepped  into  the  canoe,  which 
in  a  few  seconds  more  disapi^eared  from  the  view  of 
the  boys  who  remained  in  the  hide  out. 

For  five  long  hours  they  plied  their  paddles  ener- 
getically, and  daring  all  that  time  it  never  occurred 
to  any  of  them  that  they  had  missed  their  way;  but 
such  was  the  fact. 

"  This  ou.i^ht  to  be  Black  Bayou,  but  it  isn't,"  said 
Luke,  after  he  had  peered  into  the  darkness  in  all 
directions,  in  the  vain  effort  to  get  his  bearings. 

For  a  few  seconds  a  most  oppressive  silence  reign- 
ed, and  then  it  was  suddenly  broken  by  the  voice  of 
a  sentry  close  by,  who  beguiled  his  lonely  watch  by 
singing: 

"  AtkI  now."  said  Jeff  Davis,  "  I  know  I'm  a  snorter; 
I'll  haiif,'  on  to  Viclisbur^,  I'll  do  nothing  shorter; 
And  I'll  keep  those  Yankees  away  from  salt  water 
In  spite  of  their  Grant  and  Admiral  Porter." 
Sing  to  de  do,  de  do  de  doodlede, 
Do  te  do  te  do  te  do. 
But  Porter  with  ironclad  gi7nV)oats  near, 
And  Grant  with  his  brave  boys  right  in  the  rear— 
They  threw  hot  shot  about  his  ear, 
And  mad(^  the  old  chap  feel  quite  queer, 
Sing  to  de  do,  de  do  de  doodlede, 
Do  te  do  te  do  te  do. 

Having  satisfied  himself  that  everything  was  right 
at  the  river  end  of  his  beat,  the  soldier  faced  about 
and  walked  off. 

"Why  don't  we  go  on,  Ned?"  whispered  Luke. 
"That  sentry  is  a  Yank,  so  we  have  nothing  to  fear. 
A  rebel  wouldn't  sing  a  song  like  that." 


THE  EETURNED  CONSCRIPT.  2Q3 

"  Don't  be  too  positive  on  that  point,"  was  the  re- 
ply. "  A\Ti€never  a  soldier  hears  a  song  that  suits 
his  fancy  he  siugs  it  without  regard  to  the  senti- 
ment. Our  boys  sing  rebel  songs  as  often  as  the 
Johnnies  do.  We've  got  a  good  deal  at  stake,  and 
don't  want  to  take  any  chances.  I  wish  we  were  a 
little  closer  to  the  bank,  so  that  we  could  see  his 
uniform  when  he  returns." 

A  few  minutes  later  they  heard  the  sentry  coming 

back  again.     When  he  reached  the  bank  he  leaned 

upon  his  musket,  and  after  looking  u])  and  down  the 

river,  to  make  sure  that  there  was  nothing  suspicious 

in  sight,  he  went,  on  with  his  song: 

Now  this  gouty  old  rebel,  as  every  one  knows, 
Was  mighty  hard  up  tor  his  Sunday  clothes, 
And  out  of  his  flag-  he  tried  to  mal^e  breeches, 
But  the  rotten  old  thing,  it  wouldn't  hold  stitches. 
Sing  to  de  do,  de • 

"  What  in  the  name  of  wonder  is  that  ?"  he  mutter- 
ed, bringing  his  song  to  a  close  and  his  piece  to 
"  arms  port "  at  the  same  instant.  "  Looks  like 
something." 

In  their  anxiety  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  sentry's 
uniform  Ned  and  his  companions  forgot  how  strong 
the  current  was,  and  before  they  were  aware  of  tJie 
fact  it  had  carried  their  canoe  out  of  the  shade  into 
the  streak  of  bright  water  already  s^Doken  of,  and 
the  soldier's  quick  eye  lighted  upon  it. 

"  Halt !"  he  cried.     "  Who  comes  there  ?" 


204  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 


CHAPTER  XXVni. 

ABOARD     THE     DECATUR. 

"We're  discovered,  boys,"  said  Ned,  caliidy,  "and 
five  iiiiiiutes  more  Avill  decide  this  matter  for  us. 
Friends  without  the  countersign,"  he  shouted,  in  re- 
ply to  the  challenge, 

"  Halt,  friends  !"  commanded  the  sentry.  "Cor- 
poral of  the  guard  number  four !" 

The  period  of  waiting  was  one  of  dreadful  sus- 
pense to  Ned  and  liis  companions.  But  the  corporal 
was  close  at  hand,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  came 
hurrying  up.  He  held  a  short  consultation  with  the 
sentrv,  and  then  called  out: 

"  Who  are  you  ?" 

"I'm  a  gunl)oat  officer,  and  have  dispatches  for 
General  Sherman,"  answered  Ned,  who  knew  that  he 
could  not  escape,  and  that  there  Avas  nothing  to  bo 
gained  by  dece2)tion. 

"  Well,  come  ashore." 

This  was  the  order  Ned  -svas  w-aiting  for,  and  ho 
lost  no  time  iu  obeying  it.  He  was  satisfied  now 
that  he  was  among  friends.  When  the  bow  of  the 
canoe  touched  the  bank,  he  stepped  out. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  that  uniform  again,"  said  he, 
shaking  the  corporal  warmly  by  the  hand.  "I  was 
afraid  you  might  prove  a  Johnny.  I  have  been  lost 
in  the  s^vamp  for  a  long  time.  Do  you  know  any- 
thing about  the  Decatur  ?  Where  am  I,  and  w^ho 
commands  here?" 


ABOARD  THE  DECATUR.  205 

"You  are  on  the  Yazoo  River,  a  short  distance 
above  Haines'  Bluff,"  was  the  reply.  "  These  are 
Washburn's  lines,  and  we  are  faced  to  the  rear,  to 
whip  Johnston  when  he  comes  to  raise  the  siege. 
Sherman  is  just  below  on  the  right.  He  is  holding 
Walnut  Hills." 

"Why,  that  is  the  very  ground  he  fought  for  last 
December,"  said  Ned  Marsh. 

"Of  course  it  is.  He  has  got  it  now,  fast  enough, 
but  not  in  the  way  he  wanted  to  get  it." 

"  Well,  boys,  I  could  talk  to  you  all  night,"  said 
Ned,  "but  I  don't  think  I  had  better  waste  any  more 
time.  Corporal,  I  wish  you  would  take  me  before 
some  officer  who  will  have  me  sent  to  General  Sher- 
man." 

In  accordance  with  this  request,  Ned  was  con- 
ducted into  the  presence  of  the  officer  of  the  guard, 
who,  after  listening  to  his  story  and  asking  him  a 
few  questions,  detailed  an  orderly  to  show  him  the 
way  to  Walnut  Hills. 

"  And  will  you  give  my  friends  safe  conduct  out  of 
our  lines  ?"  asked  Ned. 

"  I  will,"  answered  the  officer.  "  Corj)oral,  attend 
to  that,  will  you?"     * 

"  Good  by,  Luke.  Good  by,  Joe,"  said  Ned,  ex- 
tending a  hand  to  each  of  them.  "Our  paths  lie  in 
different  directions  now;  but  before  we  part  I  wish 
you  would  tell  me  what  I  can  do  to  rej)ay  you  for  all 
you  have  done  for  me." 

"You  owe  us  nothing  but  your  good  will  and  an 
occasional  letter,"  replied  Luke,  shaking  Ned's  hand 
with  both  his  own.  "  You  know  our  post  office  ad- 
dress." 

"Yes,  and  you  know  mine.  This  war  will  be  over 
some  day,  and  then  I  shall  hope  to  see  that  hide  out 
again.     Good  by." 

The  boys  separated,  Luke  and  Joe,  accompanied 


206  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

by  the  corporal,  hastening-  down  the  bank  toward 
the  place  where  they  liad  left  their  canoe,  and  Ned 
followed  the  orderly  who  was  to  lead  him  to  General 
Sherman's  headquarters.  In  due  time  he  found  him- 
self standing  in  the  presence  of  *'01d  Tecums,"  who 
was  examining  his  disj^atch  with  rather  a  quizzical 
look  on  his  face. 

"  It  seems  to  me,  3'oung  man,"  said  he,  at  length, 
"that  yon  have  been  a  long  time  in  finding  me, 
haven't  you  ?" 

Ned  acknowledged  the  fact,  and  then  proceeded 
to  give  a  rapid  acount  of  the  adventures  that  had 
befallen  him  since  that  dis2:)atch  was  placed  in  his 
hands,  and  wound  up  by  telling  the  general  that 
there  were  a  good  many  Union  people  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Yazoo,  and  asking  him  to  bear  the  fact  in 
mind  if  he  sent  any  of  his  cavalry  raiding  in  that  di- 
rection. He  also  said  a  good  word  for  the  conscri^^ts 
who  had  brought  themselves  into  trouble  by  trying 
to  help  Proctor  to  escape. 

"  Well,  you  seem  to  have  had  a  time  of  it,"  said 
the  general.  "  I  don't  think  I  shall  send  any  of  my 
cavalry  across  the  Yazoo  right  away,  because  I 
haven't  any  web  footed  horses  in  my  command.  And 
as  for  Proctor  and  the  Union  men  who  tried  to  help 
him,  I  guess  they  are  all  right.  We  shall  have  the 
city  in  our  possession  very  shortly,  and  of  course 
they  will  be  captured  with  the  rest.  Now,  I  sup- 
pose you  want  to  go  aboard  your  boat,  don't  you? 
Well,  slie  is  below  the  batteries  ;  and  as  that  is  quite 
a  long  distance  from  here,  I  think  you  had  better 
stay  with  us  tonight,  and  tomorrow  I  will  send  an 
officer  to  show  you  the  way." 

Ned  found  sleeping  quarters  with  a  young  cavalry 
lieutenant,  wlio  gave  him  a  breakfast  next  m<u-ning, 
provided  him  with  a  liorse,  and  accompanied  him 
around  the  rear  of  the  army  to  the  river  below  the 


ABOARD  THE  DECATUR.  207 

city.  He  was  glad  when  lie  came  witliin  sight  of  the 
river  and  saw  the  gunboats  riding  at  anchor  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream.  He  was  more  delighted  still 
when  he  reached  the  water's  edge,  and  saw  one  of 
the  Decatur's  boats  about  to  shove  off.  The  young 
officer  in  command  stared  at  him  as  if  he  could 
hardly  believe  his  eyes,  and  then  sj^rang  ashore  and 
ran  up  the  bank  to  meet  him.  It  was  his  chum, 
Bob  Andrews. 

"Why,  Ned  Marsh,  where  have  you  been?"  ex- 
claimed Bob,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak.  "  We  gave 
you  up  for  dead  long  ago." 

"  It's  a  long  story,  Bob,"  was  Ned's  reply  ;  "  but 
you  shall  hear  it  all  as  soon  as  we  can  get  an  hour 
together.  Men,  I  am  glad  to  be  with  you  again." 
(This  to  the  boat's  crew,  who  arose  to  their  feet  and 
saluted  him  as  he  stepped  into  the  stern  sheets.) 
The  young  officer  was  not  more  delighted  to  get 
back  to  his  vessel  than  his  shipmates  were  to  have 
him  there.  He  never  knew  until  that  day  how  many 
warm  friends  he  had  aboard  the  Decatur.  She  bore 
a  greater  number  of  honorable  scars  than  she  did 
the  last  time  he  saw  her  (she  was  under  a  heavy  fire 
for  two  hours  when  she  ran  the  batteries),  and'^Ned 
could  not  get  over  sorrowing  because  he  had  not 
been  with  her  when  she  received  those  additional 
wounds.  But  he  never  missed  a  battle  after  that, 
and  it  was  his  good  fortune  to  serve  on  her  until  the 
close  of  the  war. 

When  that  memorable  Fourth  of  July  came  and 
the  city  surrendered,  Ned  Marsh  made  every  effort 
to  get  ashore;  but  no  liberty  was  granted  until  after 
the  rebels  had  been  paroled  and  marched  out.  and 
then  it  was  too  late  for  him  to  do  anything  for  Mr. 
Bennett  and  his  friends.  He  heard 'from'"^  Proctor* 
however,  but  did  not  see  him,  for  that  restless  in- 
dividual had  departed  for  a  new  field  of  duty.     He 


208  LUKE  BENNETT'S  HIDE  OUT. 

wrote  to  Luke  about  it,  and  received  most  gratifying 
news  in  reply. 

"  Our  long  separated  families  are  once  more 
united,"  Luke  gleefully  wrote.  "  Pemberton  wanted 
to  march  them  to  a  camp  of  instruction  (which  fa- 
ther says  is  only  another  name  for  a  j^i'ison  pen), 
and  keep  them  there  until  they  should  be  exchanged; 
but  our  people  couldn't  see  it.  They  quietly  step- 
ped out,  and  Pemberton  will  never  see  them 
again." 

Of  Ned's  subsequent  career  in  the  gunboat  serv- 
ice, there  is  little  to  be  told.  He  was  under  fire  a  good 
many  times,  and  he  had  some  narrow  escapes,  too; 
but  he  never  seemed  to  care  about  them.  He  liked 
best  to  gather  a  party  of  appreciative  friends  about 
him,  and  tell  of  the  exciting  events  that  had  come 
under  his  notice  while  he  was  sojourning  in  Luke 
Bennett's  hide  out. 

THE     END. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
66 


